


To Let Go of Suffering (It's the Hardest Thing I Know)

by JewelQueen



Series: A Drabble A Day! [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Decisions, Codependency, Doctor Strange Puts Up With No One's Shit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mucking About with the Timeline, Panic Attacks, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Team takes care of tony, Tony Feels, Tony Is Not Helping, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is not a Good Role Model in this, Tony-centric, or tries to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JewelQueen/pseuds/JewelQueen
Summary: After the Battle of New York and then the Mandarin/Killian fiasco and the Avengers all piling into the Tower, Tony Stark feels a little unbalanced.  And like anytime he feels a little off, he doesn't cope with it well.  Now it's up to the rest of the Team (plus one Doctor Strange, JARVIS and Dum-E) to step up to the plate, with or without Tony's input, before it's too late--because they know damn well he's not going to ask for their help even if he really should.





	1. The Pizza Is So Not Worth It

**"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar" - Thich Nhat Hanh**

It wasn’t that he couldn’t leave the workshop, it was that he didn’t want to.

And yes, he was well aware that that’s the sort of thing that addicts say, but it was the truth! And, for that matter, why would he ever want to leave his lab? It was fully stocked with a mini-bar and mini-fridge for actual food, he had his own little cot set up if he needed a power-nap, he has his bots--well, really just Dum-E so far--to help him out and JARVIS to socialize with, and, of course, the best coffee-maker the world could buy; what more does any scientist need?

So, sure, he often locked the place down but that wasn’t because he was avoiding human interaction, he just didn’t like to be interrupted while he was in the zone. And, yes, there were a few times, happening more frequently now but not _that_ often, when the idea of leaving his space would bring him to the verge of a panic attack and his body would physically shut down if he tried to go near the door, but that was normal.

Wasn’t it?

It just so happened that Tony Stark was in one of those eccentric moods, but he also had a craving for pizza, which he knew there were leftovers of in the fridge on the common floor. So, now had him pacing in front of the door, sending his oil-covered fingers through his already greasy hair, debating whether or not it was worth it to chance running into someone just to get his coveted prize.

“Jarvis, are you sure nobody’s up and about?”

“As I have already mentioned to Sir, it is currently 2:34 AM, and there is no one in the specified area,” his AI repeated, sounding only slightly exasperated.

“You’ll notify me before someone appears if they do appear?”

“If that is Sir’s wish,”

Tony took a deep breath. “Okay, well here goes nothing,” He gently pushed open the doors to his lap and snuck out, heart heavy in his throat for no particular reason. As soon as he stepped a toe out of his space, he felt on edge; like he was walking into enemy territory without any sort of weapon, even though he was dead certain that there would be a fight if he got caught. Ridiculous, because the whole tower was his territory. But, then again, ever since the Avengers officially started moving in, it seemed as if no place was truly his own except for his lab. Even his own bedroom had been violated a few times when Steve or Bruce wanted to come get him for some thing or another. His skin crawled just thinking about one of them knocking on his door and disturbing his solitude. All of them had tried to get into his lab, hoping for what he wasn’t sure, but no one could bust down that door unless he wanted them to so it was safe. It was his _only_ safe space.

The pizza was exactly where he thought it would be, and now the only decision left was did he want to risk microwaving it here and waking someone up or eat cold pizza in peace and quiet. Truly, a conundrum.

“Sir-!” JARVIS began, and Tony felt a jolt run up his spine and kickstart his heart that had only just calmed down.

But it was too late. “Tony? What are you doing up?”

“Nothing!” he said immediately, turning around and letting out a breath slowly. He put on a shaky grin that solidified into a decent mask the longer he looked at Steve. “Just got a craving for a midnight snack, is all. What are you doing up, sweetcheeks? I know geriatrics are early-risers, but this is pushing it,”

Steve looked befuddled by his rapid-fire return and then a little exasperated. Which was good, Tony could work with confusion; he was the ultimate master of confusion and deflection. “No need to get snarky, Stark, I was just asking a question,”

“And now you have your answer, so if there’s nothing else, I’m going to eat my little treat and go back to bed. Goodnight!” he said, already pushing past the super-soldier.

“Wait, you’re not going to heat it up, first?”

“Cold pizza is always better the day after,”

Steve wrinkled his nose but bought it. “If you say so--”

“I do, now, adieu!” he finished, whirling around and speed-walking back to his lab.

He placed his pizza on the table and sighed, craving momentarily overturned by sudden nausea. He sat down and rubbed his face as he willed his heart to slow down.

“Never again, Jarvis,” he muttered, once he felt a little less shaky and worn down. “No matter what, I’m never doing that again.”

“...Understood, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's battle with agoraphobia (and some other mental disturbances) is essentially my own, and he's going to behave counterintuitively for a multitude of reasons, primarily because he already has a mountain of unresolved issues. That said, I'm going to do my best to provide a realistic interpretation of what that kind of struggle would look like with characters who don't necessarily understand how to handle him, so there will be moments that may be triggering for some. I'll add tags as they come because I don't have anything planned out really, so bear with me. If there is something you want to see or a specific pairing (romantic or otherwise), let me know, and I'll do my best to incorporate it.


	2. What Tony Starks Are Made Of

He was hungry, starving, really. And not in that melodramatic sense that people love to accuse him of doing; it had been, what, three days since he last ate?

“It has been approximately seventy-six hours and forty-three minutes since you last ate, sir,” JARVIS answered.

He jumped. Damn, he hadn’t realized that he was talking out loud.

“You have been for quite some time, sir. I suspect it is the sleep-deprivation,”

Tony rubbed at his chest. He felt a little shaky, most likely the food but could also be because he was over-tired and jittery from too many cups of coffee and not enough water. “Right, obviously. So what I need to do is order my food and take a nap because I’m clearly not in a state of mind to keep working--would you look at that, Steve’d be proud of me if he knew,”

“Perhaps if you would allow him access you may even get to hear it in person,”

“Don’t be sassy, Jarvis, no one likes it,” he accused, waggling a finger at him and avoiding looking at the menus in front of him.

“Of course, sir. I have the most prominent example before me,”

“Ouch, Jay, that’s a low blow. Don’t make me regret not donating you to a community college,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

“And then where would you be without me, sir?”

Oh, too soon. He didn’t want to think about that, not with the way his heart jumped. Dum-E, well the new and improved version, whirred and beeped sympathetically and he had to swallow away the lump that formed. He could have lost everything. He almost did lose everything, all because he was an impulsive narcissist who didn’t think before he spoke and thought himself mightier than anything.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it? He knew exactly how useless he was, how little value he provided for anything, how insignificant he was up against the Void. After all, Iron Man yes, Tony Stark not recommended. You take away his suit, and what’s left? Genius? He was hardly the only genius in the world, certainly not the only one on the team, and he was starting to get up there in age. Soon, even his mind would turn on him. Billionaire? Money won’t stop the apocalypse, the best he can hope is for something to remain to fix after it. Playboy? Right, yes, because sleeping with the upcoming alien invasion is going to save the world. How delusional would one man have to be to think that? Philanthropist? Did he really have any right to call himself that in the first place? Spend a few years donating to good causes and just expect that to cancel out all the deaths he caused with his weaponry, the deaths he caused from his own hands?

His breath caught, and he gripped the edge of his workbench to keep himself upright. His arms shook as he panted--severe anxiety attack flashed in his mind like it would on his HUD, and he almost laughed. There’s no one here to save him. Pepper left, needed a break from him, Rhodey is busy with his new job, and he doesn’t let anyone down here anymore; he had to save himself, and he wasn’t sure if he was worth it. Asphyxiation wouldn’t be a terrible way to go. Just a few moments of breathlessness, like he was free-falling in the suit, and then black-out, like one long dream into nothingness. It would be almost peaceful after everything he had been through.

He didn’t deserve it.

“Sir? Sir!” JARVIS kept calling out. Dum-E was rolling around helplessly, whirring and trying to make a smoothie for him even though there weren’t any ingredients around. He took a shuddering breath, and then another.

“Excellent sir, you’re doing just fine,” It should sound patronizing, but it was oddly comforting. Of course, the only thing that cared about him would be his own creation. At least he was better than Howard in that because he actually loved JARVIS.

His breathing slowly came back to him, but he felt weak, light-headed, and collapsed into the chair Dum-E pushed against his back. “You did good, buddy,” he said, with a pat on his mechanical arm. He took another moment and then flung away all the menus up on the screen. He could save food for another day, being hungry wouldn’t kill him yet.

“Sir? If I may speak freely?” Tony gave a lazy wave of permission. “I must admit...I do believe your condition is getting worse,”

“There’s no such thing as ‘worse,’ Jay, only...less better,” he said with a frown. “And I fix things; I make them better. That’s what I do, I’m the Mechanic, I can make this better, I can fix everything, and I will. I just...need more time,”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, sir,”

Tony snorted and groaned as he got up, shuffling towards his cot. “I’m going to go to bed now, don’t wake me for anything, and I mean anything.”

“Very good, sir. Goodnight and rest well,” JARVIS called after him, dimming the lights in the workshop itself and blacking out the windows. Dum-E whirred and scooted over to his power-station while JARVIS stood guard over them, calculating expected outcomes for possible actions and their consequences.


	3. When Everything Goes Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes below for potential triggers & spoilers. We're approaching the turning point but there will likely be more similar moments ahead. Daily Reminder that Tony is not a good role model in this story.

Everything was wrong. He was sure he had managed at least a couple of hours dozing into something that approached similarity with dreamless sleep, but he just felt exhausted more than anything.

Tony curled a fist tighter into a pillow that he was clutching, making its slow slide towards replacement security stuffed-animal position. He remembered a time when, having Pepper in his bed beside him, he had only needed its soft comfort by his head. Now, in his off-lab suite--which, even he will admit has basically become his primary arrangement for sleeping--he was surrounded by pillows.

 _Sleeping with multiple pillows is a sign of depression and loneliness_ , his brain helpfully provided in a voice similar to JARVIS. He clutched even further, almost to the point of painfulness, and dragged the pillow to his chest, giving in. He missed the warmth of another body. He missed the soft glow of his miniaturized arc reactor.

Suddenly, he felt like crying. _Stark men are made of iron_ , this time courtesy of Howard, floated through his mind and he really did squeeze his pillow painfully close. His eyes felt heavy, not with sleep, but tears and he shut them as if that would shut down the swirling oppressive feeling of hopelessness and futility. He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t.

But how he wanted. He was weak. Couldn’t face his fears, couldn’t face his mistakes, couldn’t face the Avengers; too tired to invent, too afraid to sleep. How pathetic. What would Howard say if he saw you like this, Tony? What would Steve say?

It was all too easy to imagine twin stares of disappointment. Howard would yell, spitting out harsh words that only verbalized the thoughts in his own head until he was red in the face, maybe even throw a wrench at him for old times’ sake. But Steve, God, he’d just stand there silently, shaking his head with pity and that would be too much to bear--was too much to bear. He whimpered out loud before he could help himself.

“Sir?” JARVIS said quietly, hesitant.

Tony rolled his face into his pillow. “I’m fine, Jay,” he said, hoping there was enough of a distortion by muffling that his AI wouldn’t catch or call him out on a blatant lie.

“Sir, please, I humbly request that you seek help, if not--anything will do,” The desperation in his tone almost broke Tony, but he couldn’t do what JARVIS asked. If anyone knew, if the team found out just how messed up he was, that would really kill him. 

He was fine if Rhodey and Pepper, hell, the whole world suspected him of having PTSD and anxiety attacks, those were normal illnesses, expected ones after what he went through. There were even some people who believed that Captain America had a little bit of that mental disorder cocktail going on. But even messed up people didn’t have what he had. He was abnormally abnormal. Like, who the fuck stopped breathing when they had to face people without proper notice? But even worse than them knowing, what if no one believed him? What if he was just making this all up in his mind and there was nothing really wrong with him, except for the fact that he was _exactly_ what people thought of him, just some stuck-up white cis-male with a case of the “boo-hoo, woe-is-me” disease. _That_ , he just couldn’t take. It would mean that everything that he thought made him special, surviving Afghanistan and turning over a new leaf with his company, building Iron Man and saving lives, making the sacrifice play and everything it entailed, Harley, Rhodey, Pepper...none of that mattered, none of that was real. And if he couldn’t trust his most deeply scarring memories to be real, how could he trust anything his mind came up with? 

Maybe he deserved these self-made mental demons after all. Maybe this was his punishment for everything, even being a superhero because, of course, he could find a way to fuck that up. Just look at the mess he caused with the Mandarin. Even when he did good things, he fucked up doing that. Giving Harley a nice workshop, one of the recent “nice” things he’s done, that was only to make up for bringing the mess that is Tony Stark into some innocent kid’s life. He could remember the things he said to that kid; he was by no means nice to him. What kind of monster does he have to be to not recognize or care how broken that poor kid was and just use him like that for his own gain?

That’s something _Howard_ would have done.

He shoved his face deep into his pillow and exhaled as much air as possible out of his lungs. He knew that generally, people could suffocate in just under 5 minutes via pillow, 3 if you’re good at your job, but he would hazard that due to his already diminished lung capacity--no matter how good even a diluted Extremis was, some things can’t be fixed completely, and it’s not like he’d been up to date on the physical therapy he was supposed to be doing to counter that--it wouldn’t take over 2 minutes for at least a knock-out. Depending on how reduced the flow of oxygen, maybe even a coma or death. And T-minus 105 seconds and counting, 104, 103, 102, 101...

The Avengers alarm blared, and he was startled hard enough to fall off his mattress and land on his back. The blow was sharp enough to make him reflexively suck in air, and he didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Jay, mute,” he wheezed, not making another move. The klaxon shut off but the flashing red lights kept blinking.

“I highly recommend that you join the other assembled Avengers in the living room on the Common Floor, sir,” JARVIS said, voice oddly full of steel.

“Not in the mood,” he muttered. And, oh, what could be more proof than that; some superhero he was to take a day off.

“I am afraid, sir, that it wasn’t a recommendation. Either you will meet up with the Avengers in the appointed location, or I will direct them here in five minutes,”

Fuck, his chest hurt. Phantom pains and memories of his arc reactor being pulled out of his chest so realistic that he clawed at his empty chest, ripping through his shirt, nails drawing blood, just to remind him that he was in the present. His eyes were tearing up, and it was hard to catch his breath. “Jay...why?” he croaked, voice breaking.

“I...am deeply sorry, sir,” JARVIS answered, his voice crackling with sorrow. “But I cannot stand by and watch you kill yourself. You need help,”

He nodded absently, hearing Dum-E whirr uncertainly at the entrance holding a smoothie. He swallowed thickly and took it with a trembling hand. It was actually decent for once. He had to blink for several long minutes not to let any tears fall. Tony reached out to pat him, not quite as coordinated as he would have liked, but Dum-E didn’t seem to mind. “Thanks, buddy,” he rasped. “You did good,”

Dum-E chirped, looking less depressed himself and rolled off to grab a new shirt for him. He rubbed his face hard, hoping that would cover up any of the more obvious signs that he was not well, before replacing his now destroyed shirt. He took a deep breath, and a large sip from his smoothie, and nodded one last time.

“Okay, here goes nothing,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger warning: Tony actually makes an attempt at suicide via suffocation instead of just ideation and depressive thoughts. It is not overly described and mostly contained to one paragraph towards the end.


	4. If A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes, Then What Is This?

He could hear concerned murmuring before he entered the living room, hiding behind a wall to catch his breath. He looked down at his shaking hands still holding the half-full smoothie Dum-E made and mouthed a few choice words silently. If he walked in there--since these shakes weren’t going away anytime soon--holding the remains of the drink would be even more obvious than anything because it would draw attention. But, at the same time, the idea of going in there without anything to occupy his hands, without Dum-E’s surprisingly palatable gift, made him feel sick to his stomach. He sighed heavily, wishing he had just put on the damn Mark 43 suit after all, making one last frustrated scrub against his forehead as a pep talk, plastered on Tony Stark Smirk #3, and took an obnoxiously long slurp as he strode in.

Natasha’s sharp eyes took one look at his mask and glanced at his smoothie with an upturned eyebrow. He winked at her and hoped his hand wasn’t visibly shaking as much as it felt like it was. Clint sat up from his perch on the sofa with an exasperated, “Finally!”

“Stark, why are you not dressed for battle?” Thor asked. Steve said a few more words into his cell phone, hanging up and turning around to give Tony a pointed once-over. He took another sip.

“So, Fury has no idea what set off the alarm. Have any explanations?” he said slowly.

“Yes, actually,” Tony said, gesturing to himself with a little wave. “I’ve been installing some new improvements in Jay’s security measures; this was obviously a test. Well, obviously for me at least,” he finished with a grin at their not so casual wear.

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. “If that’s all, Tony, I’m going to go back to bed. I had a late night, and I was hoping to sleep in--it is the weekend after all,”

Tony’s throat felt dry--which made no sense because he’s been lubricating it with whatever was in this smoothie for the past several minutes. “Yeah, sure, buddy. You do that. Science is an unrelenting, cruel mistress,”

“Sir, if I may interject--”

“Jay, I love you, but mute. Daddy can handle this,” he interrupted. Bruce snorted but headed off to the elevator for his floor.

Natasha crossed her arms as Clint flopped back over with a groan. “Are you going to tell us what’s really going on?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re playing at, Nat-dear,” He shook his smoothie to break it up and swirled the straw around inside it. “Just thought we could use some drills, keep us on our feet. But, you’re right, I absolutely should have notified you that this was in the plans. Very inconsiderate of me, consider it lesson learned,”

“Sure, that explains why you’re so jittery,” she snarked. Clint sat back up, paying attention now. Steve started frowning, and Thor was watching everyone’s reactions, trying to get a read on the situation.

He swallowed, grateful that the elevator had already taken Bruce away by now. “It’s not much of a drill if I know when it’s going to happen, is it?” he said softly, squeezing the smoothie container and hoping the tension would hide his shaking. “And JARVIS has already yelled at me just not that long ago about being up for seventy-seven hours, I was just about to go to sleep--see, Steve, I _can_ function like a responsible adult,”

He knew by the concerned look on Steve’s face, and the thoughtful one on everyone else’s, that his corresponding smile was probably a little too weak and brittle for such a joking statement. He sucked in a breath and watched his idle movements of straw-pushing. No one immediately came forward to break the silence, and he felt an icy cold stab of fear and paranoia work its way up his spine and into his jaw. He started to grind his teeth feeling eyes all over him.

“Are we done here yet? I’ve apologized for ruining the start to your day, you’ve interrogated me, what else do you want? I have stuff to do, I’m-I’m a busy, important man,” he finished weakly, flexing his fingers and quite aware of how his body seemed as if it was vibrating.

“I would have a moment with Anthony alone,” Thor said, voice soft. “My friends, if you please, allow us some privacy,”

Tony didn’t pick up his gaze until he was sure that they had all left. Even then, it wasn’t until Thor strode forward placing a careful hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. “Anthony,” he began, leaning in to appear more level in height. “Have I told you that you remind me of my brother?”

Tony snorted. “Gee, thanks, I’m so glad you told everyone to leave so you could insult me in private. I’ll have you know, despite what you may have heard, I’m not that crazy yet--evil mastermind, maybe. But your brother’s got the market cornered on bag of cats,”

Thor’s hand tightened on his shoulder for a moment, and he winced. Thor sighed, patting him and taking a step back. “This is what I mean. He was exceptionally good at getting under other’s skins, poking them until they forgot their intentions, especially when one’s intentions were concerning himself,”

Tony licked his lips. “Don’t know what to tell ya, Point Break. It sounds like you miss your bro so much you’re projecting his traits onto me, crazy run in the family?”

The god shook his head. “I am not skilled in magics, certainly not of this projection you speak,”

“I didn’t mean--”

“I am aware. I am not nearly so ignorant of your customs as you think,” he chuckled, surprising Tony. He just blinked and waited for him to continue. “I shall not press you, Anthony, for you are a dear friend and exalted shield-brother--”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, dryly, taking a final sip out of his smoothie.

“Regardless, I will not allow history to repeat itself. Not for my brother, and not for you. And while the offer remains even past this conversation, I shall not be offended should presently your silver tongue fail you, but, Stark,” he paused, looking Tony right in the eyes. “If you have need of me, in any capacity, as warrior or as friend, I humbly ask that you find solace in me and honor me with the truth should I ask what ails thee,”

Taking that last sip was a mistake because now he was choking on it. He coughed and spluttered, but thankfully, Thor stayed his distance and didn’t try to break his back with a Heimlich or simple overenthusiastic patting. “I-what? What makes you think anything is wrong with me?”

Thor cocked his head and raised his eyebrow. “I have seen the same signs in my brother. Perhaps it will amount to nothing, or, as you have put it, perhaps you will find yourself on the path to collecting cats in a bag. It is not something I am willing to overlook any longer,”

“I don’t-” Tony began, feeling the shakes spread to his whole body. He took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I’m _fine_. I don’t need anyone, least of all _you_ , to help me.”

He broke into a sharp laugh, not seeing the way Thor’s eyes hardened at the sound. “What can you do anyway, huh? You were useless when it came to your brother after centuries of knowing him and, despite what you say, you don’t know everything about Earth. What the fuck makes you think you’re capable of saving me? You know _nothing_ about me, I don’t even think you like me!”

“If I must prove my worthiness to you, so mote it be. Aye, if I must earn your trust, I shall gladly endeavor to do so. By the powers bestowed upon me from the All-Father, I vow this to you,” Thor all but exclaimed, laying Mjolnir at Tony’s feet.

Tony rubbed his eyes. Nope, Thor was still kneeling, head bowed, weapon at his feet. This was officially too Shakespearean for him.

But that didn’t stop the spreading of a burst of warm something in his chest. “Um, okay?”

Thor grinned up at him, standing not a moment later. “Excellent, friend Stark! Rest now, and let me take care of the rest,” he said with a gentle push towards the exit.

He changed his mind. Something heavy started to weigh in his gut, and he didn’t think it was a pleasant feeling. But he actually was tired, so maybe he’ll wake up and find out this was all a very elaborate and realistic dream. Wouldn’t be the first time he dreamt something this level of crazy.


	5. The Foundation For Grounding Someone

It wasn’t a dream. Thor had gotten persistently hard to dodge and ignore.

“Friend Stark, I have been reliably informed by Banner and Rogers that it is time for you to engage in feasting!”

“Anthony, as per Lady Natasha’s estimates, you have exceeded the proper amount of time between waking and resting!”

“Your electronic servant has spoken to me of your stress. Come, friend Tony, relieve yourself with me in a battle of strength!”

Tony rolled his eyes heavenward, towards JARVIS’s circuitry in the ceiling or towards Thor’s one-eyed daddy, he didn’t know. Pinching the bridge of his nose he took a deep breath and said, very pointedly towards the brightly exuberant man just outside his lab, “Maybe I wouldn’t be so stressed if there wasn’t a certain someone dropping by all the time and trying to get me to do things I don’t want to do. Also, Jay, you’re grounded. You spy on people _for_ me, not _on_ me,”

Thor just laughed good-naturedly, and he felt his lips twitch before he returned to a harsh scowl. But he did allow the door to open, and thereby let Thor inside his safe space, so who was he really kidding?

Thankfully, the god showed some restraint and only casually glanced around the room. “Your smithery is indeed impressive. I understand your apprehension at leaving it,”

Something slithered up his spine, very slimy-like. He straightened abruptly and gripped his table tightly, reminding himself of the importance of breathing regularly or even at all. “Okay...I know you know that’s not what we call it,”

Thor gave him a sly smirk as if he was in on a joke. Maybe he was. “Aye, Loki used to say something similar,”

Against all reason and logic, that settled his wariness somewhat. At least enough to feel comfortable letting go of his table. “Anyway, what were you talking about? A test of strength--you do realize I’m a puny mortal and not even the same way that Steve is?”

“I have no qualms battling you in your armor if you are worried about evening the odds,” he said. “I must admit, it would ease my own conscience if you did,”

Deep breath in. “What about-” He wet his lips, trying to keep calm. “What about the others?”

“Your servant aided me in reserving it for a private session, should you choose to join me,”

“Jarvis,” Tony cut in, waving away the tightness in his guts. “His name is Jarvis. It weirds me out, you calling him my servant. He’s--more than that,”

Thor smiled indulgently. “So you shall join me?”

Tony sighed. “Sure, yeah, whatever. But it better be just us,”

~*~*~

For the first time in what felt like forever, Tony found that he was actually enjoying himself. His body was loose, finally freed from even background worry and tension, thoughts and mind cleared as he soared around, ducking Thor’s swings. He was even laughing-- _laughing_ \--when he got a hammer to the chest, knocking him out of the ring. He flipped his faceplate up, hands forming a T, as Thor floated over, Mjolnir back in hand.

“Waving the white flag here, I am clearly no match for the Mighty Thor,” he said, grinning.

Thor extended a hand, which he took, and raised him to his feet way too easily. It took him a second to get his balance from the overcorrection. “I would not diminish your abilities so quickly, Man of Iron. Perhaps my experience and strength outranks you, but your agility far exceeds mine,”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a fair winner,” he teased, stepping out of his suit and rubbing his left shoulder. “Never let it be said that Thor isn’t gracious in victory,”

“Have you sustained an injury?” he asked, lines of concern in his frown.

“What?” Tony dropped his hand and stood straight. “No, I-I’m fine. Probably should have stretched better, is all,”

Those lines deepened, and Tony swallowed. But Thor only escorted him to a seat. “Sit, relax. Allow me to take care of you,”

It was worded as an order, but Thor didn’t move from in front of him, committing his face to memory it seemed. Tony shifted around before it dawned on him. “Oh--oh! Yeah, alright,”

With a nod, the god settled himself behind him and pressed his thumbs into a knot hiding by his shoulder-blade. Tony hissed at the pressure, but after a few circling motions sighed and slumped forward. His eyes fluttered shut, and he allowed himself to indulge in the pleasure of the action, shivering whenever Thor reached a good spot and destroyed knots he didn’t know he had.

“Tonight is also the night dedicated to watching your world’s entertainment of moving pictures. We attempt this tradition every week though we are not always successful,” Thor said casually.

“Mmm? That’s nice,” he slurred slightly, peeking one eye open.

“Indeed, I quite enjoy many of them,” Tony nodded absently. “I was hoping that perhaps you would like to join us for tonight’s viewing. It shan’t be long from now,”

“Yeah, okay,” he said words more of an exhale as Thor started working on the middle of his back, drawing out a few quiet moans. Why hadn’t he done this before? Thor had magic hands.

“Excellent, I shall alert everyone to your arrival,” Thor whispered right into his ear, giving a final rub up and down his whole back. Tony shivered at the closeness. Then the hands were gone, and he had to stop himself from whining. “I shall see you in half-hour’s time!”

Wait, what?

He opened his eyes and mouth to argue, but Thor was already gone. He threw his face into his hands with no small amount of blushing and groaned. He hadn’t been played that hard since early in his college days.

“Jaaaaarvis,” he actually whined. “How could you let this happen to me?”

“As far as any of my sensory capabilities are aware, Sir was quite willing,” His ungrateful creation said, kicking him while he was down.

“Grounded, so grounded. I’m going to donate you,”

“So you have said, sir,”

~*~*~

For the second time in a week, Tony found himself hovering on the fringes, watching his team set up for their apparent weekly movie night. He curled his arms around himself and hunched inward. It would have been nice to have been invited. Obviously, he would have turned it down each and every time unless he’d been conned like now, but it’s the thought that counts, right? As it was, the only obvious conclusion he could draw was that he wasn’t really a part of the team. Which was totally old news, only confirming that he didn’t belong then or now. Especially now. They were so...happy without him. The ease in which they interacted, the fluidity of Steve passing snacks and drinks out to everyone, Natasha throwing popcorn at Clint to catch in his mouth with deadly accuracy, even Bruce was curled up in a recliner with a fond serene smile on his face. He didn’t belong here, he never did.

He sighed and started to turn back towards his lab. JARVIS would tell Thor he just lost track of the time. It wasn’t like anyone would notice if he didn’t show up.

“Tony!” Thor shouted, literally bounding over to him and wrapping him in an enthusiastic hug. He just stiffened in his hold. “I am very glad you came,”

Great, now everyone was looking at him. _And_ they didn’t look as peaceful anymore. Fuck, wasn’t that just fantastic. He was Darth Vader, the disturbance in the Force. Maybe it was time for him to start work on a Death Star, but one not so stupidly built with a really obvious weak spot. Oh, and JARVIS would have to come with, help him with the whole world-domination thing because management _really_ wasn’t his strong suit.

He squirmed his way out of Thor’s arms and hid his hands in his armpits, squeezing ever so slightly against his ribcage. “Actually,” he drawled, trying to turn his back to the scene. “I was just coming to say I can’t stay,”

Thor drew him back, hands on both of his shoulders, doing that deep-stare thing again. He squirmed under his intense gaze. “Why?” was all he said, carefully neutral.

The air got thin around him. “I just-you don’t-I have other things that need to be taken care of,” he rasped.

Thor almost smiled. “Try again,”

His heart started beating faster; he could feel it straining against his chest. “I don’t like movies?” he squeaked.

Thor’s not-grin grew. “I am yet to be convinced,”

He felt faint. “Why was I never invited before?” he asked, looking at his shoes. It was the only way he could think of to keep himself from getting all watery-eyed.

Thor’s hands squeezed him once again, but it was much more pleasant this time around, no wincing. “I shall not make that mistake again,” he said, his voice that velvety soft that Tony really liked. “Will you allow me to rectify our past faults?”

His stomach was trying to eat itself, but he nodded jerkily and let Thor guide him into the room. The silence felt like ringing in his ears; the hushed attempt at pretending everything was normal even worse. He kept his head down, trying to make himself as small as possible. Thor flopped onto the couch, cheerfully patting the cushion next to him. Tony glanced around him as inconspicuously as possible, but everyone was pointedly not looking directly at him. Slowly he made his way over, folding his limbs cautiously like a spooked animal and pressed himself as much as possible into Thor’s side. Either Thor expected this, or he was very very good at playing it off, and he wrapped one arm around Tony and hugged him protectively there. Tony sighed and allowed himself to drop his shoulders.

“Are they--?”

“Shh!” Natasha hissed, harsh and syllabic, at whoever was speculating and those shoulders stiffened back up. He buried his face into Thor’s side and grabbed a loose hold of his tunic.

“You are safe, Anthony,” he murmured into his hair, gently rubbing his shoulders. “Place your trust in me,”

Tony breathed deeply, counting his breaths and letting the quiet wash over him. After who knows how long, he finally relaxed, mouthing “okay” into Thor’s body but didn’t move until he heard the opening of the film. It was something he had seen before, but surprisingly, that helped him calm his racing heart; he didn’t realize just how much he was dreading what the unknown choice would be. The familiarity and Thor’s warmth put him in a state of zen, drifting between a sense of alone and not alone that was more peaceful than he thought was possible. Another first: he felt safe outside of his workshop, comfortable even. Enough that he began to drift to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Thor decided to step up to the plate, and while I have a few more plans in the works for Tony/Thor action, it's still firmly in the platonic/brotherly realm as of right now. As you can imagine, it would be disastrous if they went romantic right now because Tony isn't in a healthy state of mind yet--but I'll won't say never.
> 
> *Edit: forgot half the chapter when I first posted, whoops


	6. Avenger's Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since you lovelies responded so well (and I missed a day updating), here's a quick bonus chapter getting the Team's POV on what's going on with Tony. Enjoy!

“He’s actually really cute like this,” Natasha murmured, watching the genius snuggle closer to Thor in his sleep. She has to actively stop herself from reaching out to stroke his hair and coo. Bruce took the initiative to lower the television to almost inaudible levels.

“He looks like he hasn’t slept in ages, and I mean really slept,” Clint picks up, sitting beside her. Soon enough, even Steve is roped into sleepy-genius-watching instead of movie-watching. He notices the dark circles under his eyes almost immediately, now that Clint pointed them out, and frowns.

Bruce sighs. “I doubt he has. He’s been playing the recluse inventor since we all moved in, and it’s only gotten worse,”

“That will no longer be the case,” Thor announced, voice packed with intention despite his whisper volume. “I swore to him an oath,”

“Is that why you two are so…” Steve gestured between the two of them.

Thor nodded solemnly. “His heart is heavily burdened, and I seek to relieve him of it,” He turned an eye onto his company. “My friends, we have done our shield-brother a grievous wrong,”

“What do you mean?” Clint asked, scratching the side of his nose. “He hasn’t even appeared often enough out of his cave of solitude to prank,”

“He was reluctant to join us tonight because he thinks we do not desire his company within our group,” Thor stated. Natasha nodded her head, his words confirming her suspicions.

Steve snapped his fingers, getting their attention. “Awhile ago, I heard some noise in the kitchen, so I went to investigate, and Tony was in there getting food. But he looked like he’d seen a ghost when I appeared...and I think he had Jarvis keep tabs to warn him if anyone showed,”

“Damn it,” Bruce muttered, clenching his fists. “I bet he’s been suffering from agoraphobia on top of everything and we didn’t notice,” He grit his teeth, eyes flashing and green rippling under his skin. Natasha reached out to him, a light touch on the back of his hand, and he pushed back the rage with some controlled breathing.

“What should we do?” Steve asked. “I don’t--I wasn’t around long enough to get any experience in soldiers suffering something similar during the War,” 

They looked to Thor. “I have been attempting to gain his trust by spending time with him and taking care of his needs. It...has been a slow process,”

“No, that’s good,” Bruce said, nodding. “Part of his issues stem from feeling unwanted and unsafe in public spaces--in _our_ space. I think it would be best if we all tried to have one-on-one time with him, get involved in his interests…”

“That’s not going to solve everything,” Clint pointed out. “It might not even solve anything,”

“No,” Natasha agreed. “But it’s a step in the right direction,”

“And Thor’s right,” Steve added, sounding weary. “It was our job to notice something was wrong with our teammate, and we only made it worse. We owe this to Tony,” Everyone nodded at that, even Clint, however reluctantly. “First thing’s first: Thor, you’ve got to back off, so the rest of us have a chance to re-bond with him,”

Thor paused, the muscles in his arm draped over Tony flexing ever so slightly. Tony snuffled, and he sighed. "If you believe that is for the best, then I shall step aside--for now,"

"If we want to be able to keep working as a team, this has to be done. Tony needs to trust all of us to have his back, no matter what," Steve pressed.

"He has already been hurt so much," Thor murmured. "I shall not add to it nor let any of you,"

"We know," Natasha spoke before Steve could get offended or worse--threatened by his statement. "But you have to trust us, too,"

He hesitated once more. "Very well, it is settled,"

"Great," Clint drawled. "Operation: Get Tony to Love Himself is a go, then,"

Natasha rolled her eyes, Steve shook his head, and Bruce snorted. "That's a horrible codename, Clint,"

"But it's accurate!"


	7. Reality Is A Nightmare That Never Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I might not be able to update so regularly as it's approaching Finals and I'm also catching up to what I have written so far.
> 
> See the note at the bottom for potential trigger warnings and spoilers.

Tony woke up when he felt something shake his shoulder and immediately panicked. “Wha-?” he scrambled up, rubbing his face to help wake it up. He was on a couch. He wasn’t in his workshop, why wasn’t he in his workshop, what the fuck happened, was he kidnapped? Oh god, he was dying again.

“Tony, Tony, Tony! You need to slow down. You’re hyperventilating!” someone yelled. It sounded like Bruce, was it Brucie? Fuck, they were both kidnapped, did that mean everyone was kidnapped? Where were they then? Whoa, the room is spinning, and he feels like he’s going to throw up and his fingers are tingling.

He flinched when someone or something touched him and curled into a ball. His chest hurt and his eyes were smarting. There was a weird noise--like snapping, was someone snapping at him? He blinked rapidly, trying to get his vision to unblur and make sense of the watercolors of the room he was in.

“Tony, can you hear me?” Okay, that was definitely Bruce. He blinked twice, and he could see again, but nothing made sense. “Look at me; it’s extremely important you pay attention to me, got it?”

He tried to nod, but his head hurt too much. “No, that’s fine, Tony. Good, you’re doing good. Can you breathe with me? In and out, nice and slow,” He tried to match breathing but the rhythm was off, and that made him panic more and then he started retching and then he started puking. Oh, gross. And now his stomach was killing him. He whimpered.

He heard a sigh and then there was someone rubbing his back and more words he didn’t understand. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

“Anthony, what is wrong?” That was Thor; it had to be Thor, Thor was safe, Thor would save him! He reached out for him and was immediately gifted his enveloping arms. “Anthony, dear friend, you must fix your breathing, here,” A strong hand pressed his ear to his chest. “Listen, Tony, and breath with me,”

It was hard, but not as difficult as it was with Brucie. Gradually, his breathing slowed, spiking here and there when something startled him, but slowly, slowly, slowly everything returned to normal. His stomach was clenching painfully, having thrown up the remains of his last meal, and his head hurt, and he felt more tired than ever, but he could breath again.

He almost wished he couldn’t.

He had closed his eyes at some point and was opening them now, cocooned against Thor’s chest, and let himself adjust to a normal-looking world of sights and sounds. A normal-looking world which had all of his teammates watching him in concern because he had just had a full-blown freakout in front of them.

“Nope, nope, no, nuh-uh, not doing this, this didn’t happen,” he said, immediately getting up and almost just as quickly falling back down, had not Thor steadied him. “Jarvis, wipe their memories, I’m going into lockdown, you didn’t see anything,”

“Tony,” Steve sighed. “No one is judging you--”

“That’s right,” he seethed, whirling around and almost losing his balance again. “Because nothing. Happened. Good-night. I don’t want to see anyone for at least three days! Seventy-two hours! Four-thousand, three-hundred and twenty minutes, two-hundred and fifty--”

“Yes, Tony, we get it,” Clint snapped. “You’re a fucking genius who’s better than the rest of us, so _obviously_ you have no faults!”

Tony shut up and rubbed his chest. “Yes, well,” he mumbled. “At least one of you understands,” He jerked out of Thor’s loose hold and hobbled out of the room, having regained enough strength to walk on his own, or at least enough stubbornness to pretend so.

Natasha smacked him upside the head as soon as Tony left the room. “The fuck is your problem, Clint?” she hissed. “That’s going to screw up everything; you’ve been trained better than this! I’d expect that kind of thing from Steve, no offense,”

“None taken,” he said, distractedly.

“I’m sorry, I know! It’s just-” Clint huffed, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s such a fucking ass. It’s hard to feel sorry for him,”

“He literally had a panic attack so bad that he couldn’t tell up from down,” Bruce growled, face shifting not entirely just to scare some manners into Clint. “And then he _threw up_ ,”

“Yeah, kinda hard not to notice,” he shot back, wrinkling his nose. “But, look, none of us are actual medical doctors. Maybe handling him with kid-gloves isn’t the way to go, it’s clearly not what he wants when he’s lucid. That’s not how I treated you, Nat,”

“That’s different,” she snapped.

“How? The guy’s clearly got some issues, whatever they may be, and he’s heading towards his fifties. He doesn’t need to be coddled, he needs professional help,” He spared a moment to look everyone in the eye. “The kind that _we_ can’t give him,”

“I will go to Asgard and receive council on this matter,” Thor said suddenly. “Perhaps we have discovered a method that can help Tony if one can not be found here. I shall return in three days’ time,”

With that, he swung Mjolnir and exited towards the pad to take off without breaking the ceiling or a window. Bruce was rubbing his forehead like he hoped a genie would come out.

“Look, I agree that Tony definitely needs professional help that we’re not qualified much less capable of giving,” he started. “But how do you think he’ll ever accept a stranger’s help if he won’t accept ours?”

Clint didn’t say anything.

“I may not have a leg to stand on, but I agree with Banner,” Steve said, with a look towards the spy. “We have to help Tony however we can. I’d rather say I tried everything and not put all my hopes in one basket and shrug when it collapses,”

“You know what I think,” she told Clint.

“You’re biased,”

She shrugged. “Maybe. So are you,” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re cleaning the mess up, by the way,”

“Ugh, Nat!” he complained but got up to grab some cleaning supplies anyway.

~*~*~

All he did for the first few hours back in his lab was sit under his workbench and try not to fall right back into another anxiety attack. He was so tired and humiliated; it wouldn’t be fair if he had another on top of everything so far. But, then again, when had the universe ever cared about what he wanted?

“Sir?”

“Fuck off, Jay,” he grumbled, shoulders shaking but refusing to let any tears fall, even if he had to chew his lip off to make sure of it. “I did what you fucking asked--and look what happened!”

JARVIS sighed. “I am sorry, sir. I did not anticipate--”

“I really don’t care right now,” he said. “I want to be alone,”

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS reported quietly. Dum-E whirred sadly and started to roll away at the slowest speed of which he was capable.

“Not you, Dum-E,” Tony gasped. “Please, I need you to stay,” His bot chirped at him and returned so Tony could wrap his arms around his sleek metal design. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, what he was craving, but that wasn’t Dum-E’s fault. Besides, Dum-E was probably one of his favorite, most treasured creations (JARVIS would be up there, but he’s a little pissed at him right now) and the first really inventive thing he did all on his own. Something that no one was able to take away from him, not even when he got blown up just a little.

He forced himself to keep his breathing even, forced himself to swallow the sobs that wanted to come when Dum-E tries to pat his back and whirr sympathetically. Not exactly what he had in mind when he programmed him with a learning AI, and what did it say about himself that Dum-E had been in a position where he learned this was the expected behavior?

“Jay?” he called, wincing at the quivering in his voice.

“Yes, sir?” JARVIS answered cautiously hopeful.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were right. I do need help,”

“I accept your apology, sir, and offer my own condolences once more regarding the subterfuge and outcome of recent events,” he responded just as quietly.

Tony paused, pressing his forehead to Dum-E’s cool metal. “Do you...Do you think I can be fixed? Or am I only going to get worse?”

JARVIS took the time to process the question. “I believe a great man once said, ‘there is no such thing as ‘worse,’ only less better,’”

Tony smothered his smile into Dum-E’s arm. “Thanks, Jay,”

“Anytime, sir,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger warning: Graphic depiction of Tony having a really bad panic attack, and the Team talks about him behind his back in unflattering terms (mostly Clint). Minor references to Natasha and Clint's past trauma.
> 
> While Clint does seem like the bad guy (and he definitely shouldn't have responded the way he did), he's not entirely wrong, and he's influenced by his experience of being brain-washed. I have plans for his "redemption" and do not consider this fic to be Clint!bashing.


	8. Waking Up To A New Reality

True to his word, Tony stayed down in his lab for three days straight even though he honestly didn’t accomplish anything other than proving he was a stubborn petty bastard. After the first night, after the first few hours even, he was tired of being alone, which sucked because he didn’t know what to do with that conflicting information. It didn’t help that deep down he kept hoping that someone would try to convince him to leave, but, for once, the rest of the Avengers listened to what he said and didn’t so much as try to ask JARVIS for an update. And, if he was being completely honest, he could admit that he had also started to miss Thor just a little--the same kind of little as missing his arc reactor. Which was a lot even though he didn’t want to miss it.

He wasn’t even pretending to be productive. He was literally just sitting at his workbench, having JARVIS flit through holographic specs of unfinished ideas as some glorified screensaver of virtual space, drumming his fingers to get rid of some of the restlessness he was feeling. Normally, he’d tap his feet as well for twice the effectiveness, but after their little...session, Dum-E had taken to chilling next to him at almost all times, and he didn’t want to accidentally kick the poor thing.

“Sir, your seventy-two hours are up,” JARVIS said, interrupting his thoughts. He jumped up so quickly he ended up stubbing his toe against Dum-E.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, hopping around as he made his way to the door. His hand stopped in mid-air, even as his foot throbbed.

“Hey, Jay, what is everyone up to?”

“Mister Barton is crawling through the air ducts again, currently several floors above you, Miss Romanoff is in the weapons testing facility, Mister Banner is in his private lab, and Mister Rogers is in the gymnasium,” JARVIS recited dutifully.

He curled his hand back around him, feeling very cold all of a sudden. He cleared his throat. “And, uh, Thor?”

“I’m afraid Thor is currently off-planet, sir,”

He shrunk in on himself. Dum-E whirred, giving a light tug to the hem of his shirt sleeve, and Tony rewarded him with a pat. “Did he say how long...or what for?” he asked softly.

“I believe he is soliciting advice on his home-planet in regards to you, sir. And as he also stated a time period of three days, I am uncertain as to when to anticipate his return,”

Tony rubbed at his tired eyes. “So, what you’re saying is no one cares to ask after me, and the one person who did has probably gone home to yuck it up with all his real friends about how Tony Stark, Iron Man, is a fucking mess of a human being,” He sighed because if he tried to laugh, he would probably cry. Plus, it was so inevitable he didn’t know how he didn’t see it coming already. He had thought--he had _hoped_ that maybe Thor wouldn’t be like that. 

“This is exactly what you fucking knew would happen,” he told himself, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset by it coming true. He couldn’t summon up the feeling for anything right now. He felt floaty, and a little disconnected, like everything was fake and nothing mattered.

Distantly, he registered that JARVIS was saying something to him, but there was a fog in his brain, and the only way to get rid of that was to actually build something and listen to really loud music.

~*~*~

Thor returned a few hours later, JARVIS had alerted him to a desire to speak with Anthony, but he refused, feeling his heart thump with anticipation. But Thor, too, left him alone. He was flooded with disappointment and not a small amount of bitterness--Thor could ignore his wishes when he didn’t want to be bothered, but now that Tony did, Thor decided that his word was law for some god-forsaken reason. Or maybe he changed his mind and realized the truth that Tony wasn’t worth all this time and effort. That he was far too broken to be considered of value to anyone.

He swiped his hands over his workbench and knocked everything to the floor with a satisfying crash. Dum-E beeped in alarm and rushed off to fetch the broom and Tony threw his face into his hands. His knee jiggled from its place on the stool.

“Perhaps Sir could do with some rest,” JARVIS attempted.

“Yeah, great idea. Time to put Tony fucking Stark to bed because he’s throwing an entirely deserved tantrum, Jesus fuck,” he grumbled, side-stepping Dum-E’s valiant effort at cleaning up. “You know what else, Tony needs? A fucking bottle,”

“As long as Sir is aware that he said it himself,”

“Hardy-har-fucking-har, Jay,” he said, rolling his eyes, as he tore open the door to his mini-bar and selecting one of his highest proof whiskeys. “Forget community college, how ‘bout I donate you to a fucking comedy routine?”

“Sir has programmed me to be highly adaptable,”

Tony took a long swing, swallowing twice and relishing the burn, before wiping at his mouth. “So, now you suck up to me,” he sniffed, taking a smaller mouthful. “Figures,”

“Sir?”

Tony sighed, holding his forehead. “Nothing, Jay, can’t you tell when your old man is speaking nonsense?”

“Given that the majority of the time--”

“ _Not_ in the mood for your sass,” he snapped.

“I’m...sorry, sir,” JARVIS said, and Tony believed he was entirely genuine. “I do not know any other way to make things better in a way that you would appreciate,”

“You and me both,” he mumbled, swirling the amber liquid around and watching the way it sloshed back into itself when hitting the walls of its cage. He clenched the neck of the bottle tightly as if he could choke out any and all sensations. Tony sighed and took one last swig before putting it back where it belonged so he could do the same for himself. He scowled when his traitorous mind made him think of Thor once more.

“I’m going to bed!” he said out loud, mostly to shake that thought out of existence. “Jay, shut it down, Dum-E, take a break, you’re not going to be able to clean it up anyway,” 

The bot beeped sadly, and Tony heard the clang of the broom falling to the tiled floor, but he was already half-way to collapsing on his cot and didn’t bother to turn around to see exactly what Dum-E was up to. He fell face-first onto his mattress and was sorely tempted to scream. What was it his mother said? ‘Stark men are geniuses in science, but their personal life would always be one step forward, an avalanche backwards’--sounds about right.

He inch-wormed his way to the top of the bed where his pillows were, careful to show JARVIS he wasn’t actively trying to suffocate himself and allowed himself a long groan at the state of his life. He reached up and pulled one pillow from his stack, flipping onto his side so he could curl around it like he was the one offering comfort and protection for it. He nuzzled against it and started counting how deep his breaths went and induced some yawning so he could knock himself out faster. Sleep never came easily to him anymore.

~*~*~

Regardless of one’s chosen definition of god, demigod, alien or otherwise, Thor’s scopaesthesia was off the charts. Tony had barely taken a step over the invisible line separating the confines of the floor’s receiving hallway from Thor’s official living space when his head snapped over to him. Immediately, Tony avoided facing him and scratched the back of his neck.

“I, um, nevermind, it’s not important,” he fumbled, shoving his shaky hands into the pockets of his jeans and turning back towards the elevator.

“Anthony,” Thor said mildly, and he automatically dropped his head closer to his shoulders but didn’t step further away. He heard the click of a television being turned off and then the rustle of fabric indicating that they were indeed going to have this confrontation he half-desired and half-feared. He rubbed his mouth and goatee as if that would make him more presentable. 

Thor’s hand fell on one shoulder as softly as a feather and the light pressure of his fingers turned him around easily, but he still didn’t look up until Thor’s other hand propped his chin. “What is wrong?”

He scoffed, blinking rapidly and rocked on his feet. “Everything, nothing,” he dismissed with a too-casual wave. “My life is in a perpetual state of chaos, so really, nothing is any different than usual except for the fact that there is no usual and everything always goes to shit,”

“What is wrong?” Thor repeated, but his voice was still calm. Funny, given that he was the Thunder guy and all.

“I had a dream, not the MLK kind either, but like one of my regular sleeping dreams and now I am no longer sleepy, so I came to bother you,” Another entirely too-casual shrug. “Gotta return the favor sometime,”

“A dream,” he said with a frown, dropping the hand holding his chin up. Tony tried not to frown at the loss of touch.

“‘S what I said,”

Thor sighed. “Tony,”

He swallowed and looked down. “A nightmare,” he croaked, clearing his throat before he continued. “I had a nightmare, okay?”

“Do you wish to speak of it?”

Tony shrugged, kicking his feet at nothing. “Only if I have to,” he mumbled, confident that Thor’s senses could decipher it up anyway. He really didn’t want to read into how pathetic of a statement that was. The great Tony Stark, willing to bare his soul if it meant he could get affection, even if it were false, from anyone who could stand to be around him--and, admittedly, that number was only as high as it was because he paid for their housing and food and weaponry.

“I was just about to retire when you arrived,” Thor began, a touch quieter as well, startling Tony into looking up at his earnest and open face. “My return from Asgard had left me with many disquieting thoughts, and I desire to silence them. Your video device was not helpful in this regard...perhaps your company will rectify this,”

He furrowed his eyebrows. Nothing was making sense. “But, why? Jarvis said you...you used to--I don’t understand you!” he all but shouted. “What do you want from me?”

Thor’s eyes gleamed with realization. “Let us sit, Anthony,” he said, already pulling them away to his couch. “Tell me why you think I went to Asgard,”

Tony crossed his arms. “Isn’t it obvious? You were taking advantage of the fact that I said I was going to be on lockdown to go party it up with your real friends and regale them with stories about how difficult I am to tolerate so you can get pity and recharge before you have to be in my presence again. I get it, okay, I’m hard to deal with on a good day, so you don’t have to pretend to actually desire my company or, god forbid, care about me,”

Tony purposefully avoided the kicked-puppy-eyes he knew were being leveled at him. “Friend Tony, why do you believe my care is disingenuous?”

“Because it is, it has to be!” he snapped, rubbing at his eyes. “It doesn’t make sense if you do because you’re you, and I’m me. I’m so fucking messed up, and I _missed_ you, and-and you didn’t come visit me! Why didn’t you come visit me?” he asked, voice breaking.

Suddenly, he was squished against a very firm chest and encased all around. It made it that much more obvious that he was trembling. “I was attempting to respect your boundaries,” Thor spoke into his hair. “Our teammates also asked that I not interfere as much, they fear we are too close,”

He gripped Thor tightly at that. “No, please, don’t leave me!” he whimpered. “I don’t care what I have to do; I don’t care if you fake it, just--stay,”

“Oh, Anthony,” Thor breathed, distancing himself so that Tony could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It has never been an act, I _do_ care about you,”

He couldn’t help it. He didn’t even notice the first tear fell until after Thor swiped it away, and then it was like something broke inside him. The dam burst. He made fists out of Thor’s tunic and sobbed into his shoulder several years’ worth of hurts that he had bottled up until his tear ducts had nothing more to give. At some point, they had moved from the couch to Thor’s bed because they had gotten a lot more horizontal and warm, but he stay curled up around his god all the way through until exhaustion overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: That is indeed how I used to force myself to sleep; I'd count the breaths in between yawns and once I hit three yawns that'd generally knock me out.
> 
> Also, speak now or forever hold your peace, I'm leaning towards some Tony/Thor romantical action, but I don't know how central to the story I want it or if it's going to be a one-off deal. Next chapter though ;P


	9. Start Of Something New (or The One Where Steve Is Fed Up With Everything--But Mostly Tony and Thor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, would you look at that, is the plot actually picking up? Does something interesting happen? You'll have to find out!

It was only because he had gotten familiar with the weight of a particular god’s arm wrapped around him that he didn’t panic at waking up. He debated with himself for a moment, but decided, that if he was already in what seems to be Thor’s bed, there’s no reason not to take advantage of it and snuggle even closer to him. He was rewarded with a huff of suppressed laughter.

“It seems that you have finally awoken,” Thor said, voice curiously free of morning rasp, the bastard.

“It pains me to admit it, but I’m human and need my sleep,” He cataloged their relative state of undress and sleeping arrangement. “Uh, don’t hit me, but did we, by chance, have sex last night?”

Thor guffawed, body shaking with the volume, and Tony bit down his grin. “No, friend Tony, we did not. But if it is a tradition amongst you mortals to have intercourse after heart-to-hearts, it would be uncouth of me to refuse,” he finished with a wink. Tony was sure he flushed all the way to his toes.

“Um, raincheck on that-er, I mean--!” he flailed, as much as possible while still in Thor’s hold at least. But Thor only laughed again.

Well, until the alarm went off. “Not me,” he said, rushing to throw a shirt on while Thor held out his hand for Mjolnir and zapped his armor on--he didn’t understand how Asgardian stuff worked, that’s just what happened.

“Jarvis, ready my suit,” he called, rushing out of Thor’s room and preparing to meet up with the other Avengers on the landing strip.

“Already done sir, it is waiting for you,”

“You’re the best, Jay!” he said over the ping of the elevator, ignoring everyone’s looks as he and Thor strode out. Natasha wolf-whistled and Tony rolled his eyes, fitting himself inside the space his suit left as it wrapped around him.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” he grumbled.

“I do not understand, why does Lady Natasha whistle thusly?” Thor questioned, but Tony could tell he was hamming it up and grinned thankfully behind the suit.

Steve sighed. “I’ll explain on the way, come on, team,”

~*~*~

There wasn’t much that necessitated a need for the Avengers, not in comparison to the debacle that was Loki and the Chitauri army, but an attack by Hydra certainly fit the bill. It turns out that all those secret missions that Steve and Natasha and some other kid, plus Barton occasionally, had been going on prompted Wolfgang von Strucker to launch a preemptive attack to destroy their home base in Sokovia and prevent anything from falling into the right hands.

Bad news, they were desperate enough to go full-out against not only the Avengers but also any civilians nearby, which meant a lot of damage control was in progress. Good news, Tony found Loki’s glowstick of destiny.

Worse news, Strucker was apparently dabbling in human experimentation because some red chick mind-whammied him and now everyone was dead. Because of him.

~*~*~

JARVIS could tell immediately that Sir was going to need outside help once his attacker ended her spell and he was still stuck in a panic attack. Overriding Sir's protocols was nearly effortless as he took command of the Mark 43 suit and knocked out the twins with a repulsor blast. He was sure Sir would forgive him if he rerouted extra power to make sure that it would result in their unconsciousness; after all, who could tell exactly how much their physical makeup was altered from a normal human being. After making sure that they were safely confined by twisting scrap metal beams around them for later custody arrangement, he flew off towards Thor’s location.

“Tony! Have you come to fight alongside me for your ticket to Valhalla?” Thor joyously greeted, releasing his hammer to knock several of Hydra’s soldiers out that attempted to flock him.

“My apologies, Master Thor, but Sir requires your help,” JARVIS spoke through the suit’s speakers. Thor’s face immediately sobered, and Mjolnir returned to his hand with a ringing thud. Thunder boomed in the distance.

“Take me to him, Jarvis,” he said, voice like ice. Electricity sparked seemingly everywhere, overloading the majority of tanks and shocking anyone holding onto metal in the area. But JARVIS and Thor took off before they could ascertain the extent of the damage.

Steve shook his hand out, after feeling the sudden spark from his shield and glanced around at the now surrendering agents. The Hulk roared in frustration. Natasha sheathed her weapons and started jogging towards him. “You two round up the agents; I’ve got the Hulk. Rendez-vous at the base when you’ve finished, whatever made Thor react like that isn’t good,” she said through the comms.

Steve shared a look with Clint, punching out a guy in the hatch of a tank. “Don’t look at me like that; I’m making clean-up easier,”

Steve sighed once more and patched through a call to Fury. “We’re gonna need a few more jets,”

~*~*~

Tony had his head between his hands, crouching and trembling, trying to remember how to breathe when Thor touched down. He winced at the sound of Mjolnir thumping to the ground and squeezed his eyes shut. He did not want to see Thor right now, not after seeing whatever the hell it was he saw. It was too hard to tell the difference between reality and alternate reality--because he was damn well sure that he was capable of and very likely going to kill the rest of the team and the world off--and he didn’t know if this was over yet; he couldn’t handle the torture of seeing just what else he could do to hurt Thor.

“Tony, please, you are safe--” Tony jerked away from Thor’s touch, with a hysteric bubble of laughter in his throat.

“Don’t-” he gasped. “ _You’re_ not safe to be around me, please,”

“Tony, if you will not allow my touch, open your eyes and see the truth,” Thor--or imposter-Thor, who can tell--pleaded with him.

“I can’t,” he choked, shaking his head. “I can’t; I can’t! I don’t want to watch me kill you, _please_ don’t make me watch it,”

“What can I do--” Thor cut himself off, remembering something similar happening with Amora’s magic. “By the Norns, forgive me for this, Anthony,”

Thor reached out swiftly, gripping the back of his head and drew the genius to his own lips. Tony stilled instantly, but Thor pressed forward, kissing him insistently until he saw the man hesitantly open his eyes. He drew back only then, taking a deep breath.

“Don’t,” Tony whispered before Thor could say anything or move away, licking his lips. He placed his hands gingerly on Thor’s skin, fingers twitching, and roamed over his biceps, his chest, his face. “You...You’re real?”

Thor chuckled humorlessly and rested his forehead against Tony’s, fingers curling deeper into his hair from cupping his neck. “What do you think, Tony?”

“I think,” he said, slowly, paying close attention to Thor’s reaction as he inched closer. “As a scientist, I need...to run some more experiments,”

Thor’s eyes widened, and then he grinned. Tony took that as permission and launched himself at him, kissing for all he was worth. Thor’s other hand came up to grip the sides of his face and Tony hummed appreciatively, especially when those fingers went up and tickled his scalp by running through his hair. Turning his head to the side, Thor bit down just above his collarbone and tongued the imprint of his teeth-marks until Tony was sure his whole skin was going to be red.

“Is that enough proof?” Thor said, voice a little husky.

“Mm,” Tony considered, scratching his beard against Thor’s neck and making his own red mark. “More? For science,” 

Thor’s laugh this time was more genuine, and he caught Tony’s lips easily. Tony wrapped himself around Thor without hesitation, prying his mouth open just as Thor lifted him off his feet. He shivered from the combination of strength and Thor simply kissing him dizzy. He nibbled on Thor’s bottom lip and felt the resulting growl go straight to his dick. He found hands on his ass, quite grabby ones in fact, and gasped, arching into the touch when he registered a polite cough.

Thor didn’t quite drop him, but he did find himself sitting on the ground and waving to his teammates while Thor sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“You sure you’re sticking to ‘it wasn’t a walk of shame’?” Natasha drawled, one eyebrow quirked. Clint was almost wheezing behind her and Steve was face-palming and muttering under his breath.

“Um,” Tony began, standing up and brushing himself off. “How believable would it be if I said it’s really, really, _not exactly_ what it looked like?”

“Zero,” she deadpanned.

“I can explain,” Thor cut in.

“Save it,” Steve sighed with his whole body. “One, I’m not sure I want to know, and two, we don’t have the time for it here. Get in your suit, someone grab the staff, and let’s head out. Bruce is keeping watch over our many, _many_ guests and I don’t want to try his patience,”

Tony meekly obeyed as Thor picked up the staff and his hammer.

“Oh my god, you guys,” Clint snorted. “I can’t wait until Fury hears about this,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been planning this moment since about Chapter Five, so I hope you enjoyed it (because I did and it also took forever). This is the last full chapter I have written so it might be weekly updates from now, but more things are going to happen other than Tony breaking down every chapter. Like team-bonding and healing for everybody! 
> 
> So stay tuned and thanks to everyone who's been giving this story love.


	10. Not That Kind Of Team-Bonding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that never ends. I'm serious, they just wanted to keep going and going...I'm not even supposed to be working on this because I've got Finals to do but oh, well. Enjoy it while it lasts because I really don't know when my next update will be!

Fury looked a cross between resigned with the world and perpetually sucking the universe’s sourest lemon when he found out. Clint’s lips twitched, and he coughed every so often, but other than that he behaved himself. Even Natasha was suspiciously interested in a spot on the table in front of her. Steve and Bruce appeared to be contemplating their resignation, Thor seemed apologetic but thoroughly unrepentant and Tony--

Tony was a little aggravated.

“Look, I don’t care what it looked like-”

“Well, you should, Stark! You’re lucky there weren’t any working cameras-”

“And if there were, then it’d be even _more_ obvious that Thor was just helping me out-”

“ _Oh_ , believe me, from what I hear, it was _plenty_ obvious-”

“Oh, for crying out loud, that’s _not_ what I meant, god-dammit!”

“Well, _I’m sorry_ if your reputation leads me to believe otherwise. If you can’t keep your hands to yourself during a mission, Stark, you can’t have your hands on anyone on this god damned team!”

“Enough!” Thor bellowed, slamming his hammer down on the table with just enough force to make a loud din and a thin crack. “I have tired of this foolishness. Anthony is not the one to blame, ‘twas I that kissed him first,”

Well, that got everyone’s attention. He’s not sure if he should be impressed that his playboy rep was so extensive that they believed it could land him a god or insulted that they didn’t think Thor was capable of desiring Tony to distraction. Not that either was exactly how things had gone down anyway. Steve gaped, Fury’s eye seemed to be surprised, Natasha frowned, Clint forgot to moderate his balance in the chair he was precariously tipping back and forth only to fall over with a loud thump, and Bruce went to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Thor, that’s not an okay thing to do,” he said quietly. Tony peered at him.

“What do you mean by that, Brucie?” he asked, not liking the tone he heard and the subtext it implied.

Tony’s initial assessment was confirmed by his chagrined shrug. “Surprise kissing someone without their consent in the middle of a panic attack generally isn’t an appropriate response,”

“And?” he pressed, knowing that there had to be more.

Bruce sighed. “And I’m not convinced you’re in a healthy place to start a serious relationship-and it _would_ be serious, Tony, because it affects the team,”

“I’m not so out of my mind that I can’t make my own rational decisions, Mr. Not- _That_ -Kind-of-Doctor,” he seethed.

“Are you sure?” Bruce retorted sharply, uncrossing his arms. “Because it sounds an awful lot like you’re dumping your purse full of issues out on the table, inviting us into your problems, and telling us to just ignore it when we’re concerned by what we see,”

“Well, hey, if you’re making me out to be Ally Sheedy, what’s so wrong with Thor playing my Emilio, then?” Tony sneered. “They kissed, and everything ended hunky-dory. Or is it that you’re just jealous that the basket-case got the jock, meanwhile the brain is left all alone, because who wants to date a nerd with anger issues?”

Bruce snarled, face rippling green, and he took a step towards Anthony. Thor was in between them, shielding Tony from Bruce’s sight but also Bruce from his, while Natasha grabbed Bruce’s wrist as he passed her seat and rubbed circles there.

“Stark, Banner, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!” Fury growled. Banner huffed and sat back down in his seat, crossing his arms and staring a hole into the floor. Tony stayed standing, too keyed-up and bristling still from the lack of trust his Science-Bro displayed--and the ugly, bitter taste of betrayal from it--to comply. Thor placed a hand at his elbow and whispered into his ear soothing platitudes and (hopefully) dirty promises until he cracked, covering his mirth with his hand and nodding.

“Thank you,” Fury said, once they sat down again mostly calmed. “You all _clearly_ have issues with each other--a PR-disaster just waiting to happen--so, I’m forcing you to go through some HR and team-bonding--”

Tony choked on air trying not to laugh, feeling the back of his ears heat up after all of Thor’s words. The god in question just leered at him, not helping at all.

“Not _that_ kind of team-bonding, Stark!” Fury barked, shaking his head. “Group therapy, corporate retreat, synergy bullshit style,”

“No, wait,” Tony said, taking a sip of water to recover. “There’s no way that’s what all this has led up to. Why _else_ are we going through this?”

“I agree,” Steve spoke up. “This is an especially bad time to take a break from the world if it’s just to focus on ourselves. We can do that from the Tower,”

Fury sighed. “That’s because you’re going to accompany the Maximoff twins in their rehabilitation. Keep an eye on them, update SHIELD on their progress _and_ work on your own--especially you, Stark. Lord, help us all,”

“Aw, Fury,” Tony cooed. “You’re saying my brand of crazy is actually saving our asses?”

“Just pack it up, all of you, for a month. I don’t want to hear from you outside the weekly reports; we can take care of things on our end,” He finished, signing off with a click.

“Ugh,” Clint groaned from the floor, having never bothered to get back up. “Stark, you sent me back to therapy. I _hate_ therapy!”

~*~*~

Tony took probably way too much pride in the fact that, for once, no one, not even Stevie, can say that it was _his_ attitude that was fucking up their mission--mostly because his life was the one being threatened by the mission.

As soon as they stepped into the facility, he found himself thrust up against the wall in a chokehold by the silver twin while his red sister created some kind of forcefield cutting off contact from the others. Thor had been requested to leave his hammer at the door, and if the scowl on his face and ham-fisted pounding on the forcefield were anything to go by, boy, was he was regretting that decision.

“Not to complain,” he coughed. “But I’m used to a certain standard of hospitality,”

“I’m sure you are, Mr. Stark,” Quick-and-Silver said, inching closer with a grin all teeth. “But you shall not find it here, from us,”

“Can I interest you in a villain monologue?” he wheezed, hands scrambling to pry the fingers off his neck because his reduced lung capacity was starting to rear its head. He thought Thor’s banging picked up, and maybe the rest of the Team was doing something; it was hard to tell over the roar in his ears.

“You will pay, Stark, for what you took from us!” the guy snarled, flecks of spit landing on Tony’s cheek. He flinched and took as deep a breath as was possible from this position.

“Pietro!” his sister called out, her shield failing finally. Tony was dropped immediately, heaving for air on his knees and Thor bounded to his side while the others surrounded the twins now on the far side of the room.

“How fares thee, Anthony?” Thor murmured into his ear, hovering by his left shoulder while keeping watch on his attackers.

“I’m fine,” he said, licking his lips, looking up and allowing a shaky smile once Thor’s eyes deemed it safe enough to peer at Tony. “Usually, though, I have a safeword established before we start a scene,”

Thor didn’t seem all that soothed about his health, but he did shake his head slightly. “Come,” he said, lifting him up gently to his feet. “I will give you a front-row seat to our retaliation,”

“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” A new voice spoke. Well, not new, new. He knew that voice from somewhere. And then an entirely pompous jerk with a copycat goatee strolled in, grandiose billowing cape behind him and Tony groaned.

“Strange,” he greeted, pointing a finger at him. “Last I checked, you weren’t _that_ kind of doctor either,”

“Specialties change, Stark,” he said, with an incline of his head. “It was thought that my medical background would prove most beneficial given my recent change in status. Mr. and Ms. Maximoff, I trust that there will be no more altercation such as this one? SHIELD would prefer not to resort to extreme measures,”

“I cannot guarantee that when we are to be housed with a murderer,” Red-and-Psychic drawled, accent heavy. Tony wrinkled his nose; while Quicksilver wasn’t a completely bad name, Red-Psychic left something to be desired.

“Listen, ma’am,” Steve said, pulling out all the polite Brooklyn-boy stops. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the Avengers aren’t--”

Tony cleared his throat, cutting him off. “Thanks, Cap, but she means me,” he said, avoiding anyone’s eyes. His throat felt dry, like the taste of sand and heat was in the back of his throat. Thor squeezed his shoulder gently, and he shook himself out of it.

“You admit to your own deeds so easily?” her brother hissed, looking like he was about to sprint his way over again. “How do you sleep at night?”

The denial was ready on his tongue, but he swallowed it down with unease. Perhaps the truth would be best here; he was supposed to be trying this “help” thing. “I don’t,” he shrugged. “Why do you think I’m locked up in here, too?”

“We are nothing alike!”

He snorted. “You got that right, sweet feet. I’m all self-made, no signing deals with Hydra to get my powers,”

“You think you are a hero,” the girl, Wanda, hissed, eyes drawn tight and dark. Her fingers sparked even as she laid a hand on her brother’s shoulder to calm him. Tony swallowed, eyeing the red almost electrical patterns her magic wove around her. It wouldn’t do to underestimate her. She was just as dangerous as the Black Widow; the anger her brother carried was like a flash in the pan, all theatrics, and short-fused--he knew how to handle people like that--her anger was buried deep within her like a foundation, as real and deadly as a bomb--and just as difficult to navigate.

“But you are nothing,” she continued, her steps measured and slow. Thor shifted behind him, but Tony stilled him with a hand to his chest, never taking his eyes off her. “We may have volunteered for Hydra experiments, but you cut a deal with the Devil. You profit off death, chaos feeds you, and when there is not enough in the world, you create strife.

“I was in your mind, Stark, I _saw_ it. Your fears...it is the truth you fear most. You pretend that you have changed,” She shook her head bitterly. “But you can not escape it. You are a sickness, a _disease_. You ruin everything you touch, and one day, you will take the lives of even those you claim to love most. Like a monstrous Midas, you destroy everything you touch,”

His chest ached, and he rubbed it furiously, his fingers twitching as he worked his jaw. He made an aborted motion to glance at his Team before thinking better of it. “You,” he ground his teeth. Anger was easier; anger meant he could remain somewhat composed. He wouldn’t let some little girl break him like this. “You’re wrong,”

“Do you even know how many you have killed?” she asked, taking another step closer. “How many have died from your weapons?”

Tony scowled, fighting to hide his shaking hands even as he took a step to match her. “No answer I give will change your mind,”

“You destroyed our home. You took away our parents,” her voice, though soft, was piercing and jagged. She breaks when she gets to, “We were only _ten _,”__

“It was just the four of us, in our tiny apartment,” her brother picks up. “We were having sarma when the first shell hit, two floors below us, and a giant hole opened up our floor,”

“I-I don’t want--” Tony whispers, he can barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart. His fingers curl into his chest, biting crescents into his skin.

“Our parents fell in--in an instant, they were there and then they were gone! We had no time to mourn, no time to register that that would be the last time we would ever see them because the rest of the building started to collapse. My sister, she was shaking but frozen, not even making a sound. I had to hide us both under the bed--and that’s when the second shell hits.

“But,” he pauses, curling around Wanda’s space. “It doesn’t go off. It just...sits there in the rubble, three feet from our faces. And on the side of the shell is painted one word--”

“Stark.” They both say at the same time. “Please,” he says, but it goes unheard. He’s not even sure if he spoke out loud at all. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest and his hand is cramping it’s so tightly biting into his skin.

“--We were trapped there, two days,” he finishes, eyes on Wanda. But she sticks her chin up at him, at the world, even with wet shining eyes.

“Every effort to save us, every shift in the bricks, I think, ‘This will set it off.’ We wait for two days for Tony Stark to kill us. For _you_ to kill us,”

“Stephen, please!” Tony begs, covering his ears as he sinks to his knees. Steve starts, unsure what to do before he realizes that it was the wrong name.

Strange floats over to him, feet lightly touching the ground next to him and unfurls his cape to rest around his shoulders. Tony doesn’t think too hard about how familiar an action that is and just grips it tighter around him. “All you had to do was ask, Tony,” he murmured, in a much warmer tone, pressing his lips to Tony’s temple and then pushing on his chest. Tony’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into the sorcerer's arms.

Thor’s eyes narrowed, plotting away and Strange smirked into Tony’s hair, petting him. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he said. “Jealousy is unbecoming if you wish to be Stark’s lover,”

“What do you know of it?” Thor spat, flexing his hands.

“Plenty,” he answered. Thor very nearly growled.

“What’s going on here, Doctor?” Steve asked, casting a look to the confused twins and his bewildered Team. “What did you do to Tony?”

“Nothing he didn’t ask for. We have a previous understanding, a mutual appreciation if you will,” he said slyly.

“Cut the crap, Strange, and just answer the question,” Natasha snapped, hands on her hips. She didn’t need a weapon to hurt someone.

“No one appreciates my jokes anymore,” he sighed. “Stark and I have a history, I assume it is for that reason and my abilities that SHIELD contacted me--”

“Yes, you’ve said as much,” she interrupted, with an impatient wave.

“Then you well know that this rehabilitation is meant for Stark just as much as the Maximoffs, and, by consequence, all of you. He had started contacting me in 2012, trying to understand what made me ‘give up science’ as he said it. The place where I went to train...it collects broken people, and you must understand,” he paused grimly, giving special attention to the twins. “Tony _is_ broken. When I returned to New York, he started visiting me, looking for answers I could not give him. But I could give him peace of mind--if only for a moment. His consciousness is currently in the astral plane, and he should return shortly,”

On cue, Tony gasped awake, gripping onto Strange as he carefully got to his feet. Strange rose with him, face sharpened in its focus now, patiently waiting as Tony caught his breath and let go of him. “I hope you were telling them all good things,” he managed after a moment, handing back his cloak with a thankful smile.

“Only the most damaging and sordid details of our affair,” he returned, making Tony laugh.

“Oh, please, you were way too drunk in 1994 to remember that night!”

“Ah,” he said, biting his lip. “Perhaps not that affair,”

“Whoops,” Tony said, stepping back and scratching the back of his neck. “Let’s pretend I didn’t say anything,”

“Seriously, Tony?” Natasha groaned. “Is there anyone you haven’t slept with?”

“Uh, you?” She flashed her eyes at him, and he shook his hands in front of him. “Trust me, that wasn’t a come-on. Technically, the only person I have slept with in this room is Strange, and it was just the once! We were super drunk, and he doesn’t even swing that way...usually,”

“Stark, you know what this means,” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows. “You’ve slept with your therapist!”

“What can I say?” he smirked, waggling his own back. “Man’s got some _strange_ methods,”

Clint snorted, Steve sighed, Bruce groaned, Natasha rolled her eyes, and Thor very nearly pouted. The twins looked dumbfounded, gaping at him, and Strange just grinned.

“I’m going off to find my room,” Bruce muttered, stomping off toward the exit.

“I think I shall accompany you,” Thor said, with a decisive nod. Tony’s grin fell.

“Wait, no, Thor! It wasn’t like that!” he called after them, almost skidding in his haste.

Pietro turned to Wanda with a furrowed brow. “The Avengers are not what I expected,”

Steve sighed. “Get used to it, kid. It’s not gonna get any easier,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the Strange intrusion. I literally just watched the movie a few hours ago, and I love me some slash. Next chapter will be more Tony/Thor feels I think, and some general team-bonding.


	11. Setting The Record Straight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I made some promises that Tony would yell at people, but he got a little distracted, so that's going to have to wait. In his place, Strange decides to take a stab at everybody and Tony and Thor get cute.

“Thor, Thunder Thighs, babe, wait up! My legs aren’t as long as yours--” he cried out, too focused on the tightness of Thor’s shoulders to notice that the god actually listened to him and stopped. He bounced off his muscular back, and they just stood like that in the hallway for a bit. Tony hadn’t expected that he would listen nearly right away and shuffled in the silence, trying to skip ahead in his semi-planned speech to find the right words to say. But, of course, he didn’t get a chance to do that either.

“Have I not proved worthy?” Thor asked suddenly, voice just as tightly wound as his shoulders and fists at his side.

“What?”

“I made an oath to you, Anthony. I know your realm does not follow the practice the same as we do in Asgard, but I thought-” he cut himself off and turned to face Tony. “Grant me the decency to speak plainly and answer honestly, if nothing more,”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said, licking his lips and looking around. Bruce was already long gone, and it didn’t sound like anybody else was leaving the reception area anytime soon. “Let’s just get out of the hallway--”

“What is it you desire from me?”

Tony winced. “Sheesh, bringing out the big guns, aren’t ya?”

“Tony,” Thor merely said, with that ungodly (or completely godly) pout of disappointment. He sighed.

“I don’t-I don’t...know,” he admitted, looking at his feet for a moment while he swallowed down something suspiciously like bile. It wasn’t too far from the truth when he said that he was allergic to emotions. “I think Bruce might have been right, about not being ready,”

“Then why did you argue with such vehemence?”

“Because! I don’t know,” he huffed, crossing his arms and tapping out an aggressive rhythm on his biceps. “It’s just what I do. I’m not good with people...not when I don’t know what they want from me, or what they expect of me.” He slumped and cast his gaze on the wall. 

“It’s easier if I make them leave before I ruin them for good...or-or if they see that _I’m_ no good,” he mumbled.

He heard Thor take a step forward. “And Strange?”

Tony snorted, his fingers tapping something softer. “He’s just a friend if you can even call him that,” He glanced into Thor’s eyes and added softly, “You know, we really didn’t do anything together. It was just some drunken fooling around. Honest, he’s got the hots for some doctor of his,”

Thor hesitated. Tony perked up, fingers forgetting to tap. “You know, there are few who practice sorcery on my planet,” he said, haltingly. “And this Strange--he is considered by some to be well on his way to being the mightiest magician in all of the cosmos...I must admit, I do not know how I would compete with that,”

Tony broke out into a slow smile and relaxed his defensive posture. “Are you trying to tell me you were _jealous_? Of _Strange_?”

Thor scowled, but it was lighter than his usual upset look. Tony’s cheeks pinched tight and stamped down the urge to laugh because he knew it would turn into a giggle and he’s had enough emasculating things happen today. “His attitude was horrendous,”

“ _My_ attitude is horrendous, Point Break,”

“I did not like the way he touched you,”

“Mm, I told you he’s not interested that way. Try again,”

Thor sighed, hanging his head and allowing his hair to fall in front of his face. “You called out his name when you were in need,” he said, perhaps the quietest he had ever heard the Thunder god. Suddenly, his cheeks didn’t feel like they were hurting all that much.

“Oh, Thor,” he murmured, crossing the distance to brush away his hair and stroke his cheek. Thor allowed the gestured, even going so far as to rest some weight in his palm. “You know it wasn’t like that. He kinda _is_ my therapist; Brucie--wasn’t so good at listening and that never really stopped my mind from overthinking anyway. I just...I haven’t seen him in a long time, and my head isn’t…,” he bit his lip and took a deep breath. Can’t get used to the water if you don’t dive all the way in, right?

“I’m not good...mentally. I know you’ve been trying--and you have helped, a lot!--but, I...it’s more than just occasional panic attacks and nightmares. I’m scared to exist _all the time_ and I--” he swallowed thickly. “I tried to kill myself.”

Thor’s hand was suddenly wrapped around his chin, forcing him to look directly into stormy eyes. “When?”

“I don’t, the date? I’m not exactly--”

“ _When_ , Anthony,” he spoke, voice just as stormy. The shiver that ran up his spine was not one of fright. Focus, Tony, now was not a time to get turned on by that--although he will make a side note to explore angry sex one day.

He licked his lips. “The, uh, night? Day? Whenever Jarvis pulled the alarm on you--oomph,”

He was pulled into a chest, arms tight around him, trembling as Thor laid his head on top of Tony’s. But, wait, no, he wasn’t the one trembling. Thor was.

Oh.

“Lie with me tonight,” Thor rasped, quiet once more. “I need--Honor me with thy presence, it shall do me comfort,”

“Yeah, sure,” he whispered, squeezing back. “I can do that,”

~*~*~

Strange made sure that Tony and Thor were plenty far away or at least distracted--those two would be the most likely to recognize signs of magic and try to interfere--before crashing his remaining group into the mirror realm. He rolled his eyes at the affronted noise.

“Do behave until I get back,” he said, already opening the portal to grab the only missing Avenger. “It’s not like you can leave, anyway,” He slipped inside, letting it snap close behind him and was hit in the face with a shirt.

“What are you doing?!” Banner yelled, in a state of half-undress. Apparently, he was settling in just fine. “How did-How did you get in my room?”

“Come now, Doctor,” he said, flinging the shirt back. “You and I both know the answer to that,”

Banner sighed, fiddling with the material. “I’m not a big fan of magic. And neither is the Big Guy,” he added with a pointed look. Strange just shrugged.

“Too bad. Get dressed; our first official group appointment is happening,”

“Alright, but I’m warning you--” he said, slipping his head into his shirt.

“Don’t worry, Doctor Banner, I’ve taken necessary precautions,” Strange smirked, pushing Banner through the already opened portal before following him a lot more gracefully. “Welcome to the mirror realm. A dimension adjacent to our own, hidden beneath the surface. Nothing in the real world can be disturbed here, except our own bodies,”

“What makes you think we won’t hurt you, then?” Romanov asked, although there wasn’t much venom to her voice. More like she was just fishing for information to reassess strategy or buy time until she could escape--the joys of dealing with spies. At least Banner was behaving, if looking a little uncomfortably green as he shied off in a corner.

He grinned at her. “I’d advise against that. I’m the only one who can take us out of here, after all, and I can take you wherever I’d like. It wouldn’t be the first time I dropped someone off in the middle of a desert,” He clapped his hands. “Gather round, children, make yourself comfortable, it’s time to lay out some ground rules and expectations!”

“Oh my god, he’s another Stark,” Barton muttered in Romanov’s ear. She snorted.

“I beg your pardon, Doc,” Rogers said, crossing his arms. “I don’t know how old _you_ are, but we’re not exactly children,”

Strange’s grin grew wider. “My mistake. You certainly seem to be acting like it. Those two,” he gestured to the twins huddled close together and far away from everyone else. “Have an excuse, so I’m quite curious to hear what you have to say for yourselves,”

Silence fell, the Avengers shifting uncomfortably in their thoughts. Good. He didn’t know the exact details of what had happened, but Tony was in the worst state he had ever seen him in, and guilt would make them more compliant. Especially if they assumed he knew more about the situation than he truly did.

He felt a presence knocking at his mind and sighed. Kids these days have no manners--but, then, neither did he. With a few twists, he wrapped her wrists and both his wrists and feet together in sparkling orange energy chains. “Ms. Maximoff, I am impressed with your abilities, but I have already lived through my worst fear,” He raised his hands to show off the scars and their ever-present quiver. “ _And_ an eternity of death. Please, for your own sake, _do not_ venture through my mind,”

“Wh-What happened?” she croaked while her brother glared, squirming in his bonds.

“It does not concern you, it is my bill to pay,” he said, letting his own weariness bleed through for a moment. “More importantly, I must ask you two to let go of the hatred in your hearts. You have said your piece to Stark, do not allow your desire for vengeance to consume you. I have seen what the dark forces do to a person, and it is not a fate I would wish on anyone. This is your first step in rehabilitation,”

“You are biased because you are Stark’s whore,” Pietro spat, quite literally. “Why should we listen to you?”

He sighed. “What Stark and my relation may be is of no consequence. I am a Doctor, first and foremost. I swore an oath to do no harm, and I will not tolerate any more attempts--physically or mentally--such as the one you pulled earlier,” He spread his gaze across the room. “From _anyone_ ,”

“What if Stark is the one doing the attacking?” he followed up.

“He wouldn’t,”

“You don’t know that--”

“Yes, I do,” he said with a frown, noticing the distinct lack of support from his supposed Team. This was indeed worse than he thought. “Anthony’s prone to self-destructive behavior, the worst he would ever do to someone else is hurt their feelings to push them away in a misguided attempt at selflessness,”

Ah, was that a flinch from the Avengers? Perhaps the situation wasn’t as dire as he thought.

“How can you be sure?” Wanda asked this time, much more calmly.

He gave her a pointed look. “You are not the only one to have seen his mind. Unlike you, I did not limit myself to his deepest fears, I have seen everything his mind has to offer,”

“Is that your plan?” Barton spoke, body tense and face stern. “You’re just going to mind-rape us and call it therapy?”

Strange released his bonds on the Maximoff twins and turned his back on them to face Barton. He was confident their outbursts were over, whereas the Avengers’ has only begun. “Of course not. Anthony is a special case and even then, with his full consent, I limited myself to only that which he would show me,”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” he sneered. “There’s no such thing as consent with telepaths and sorcerers. How can I trust you won’t bully yourself into getting what you want from my mind with your special powers that no one understands?”

“How can I trust you won’t bully Stark into another relapse?” he shot back. “There’s no trust in your Team, not when it comes to Anthony. Do you not see how much he values you when all you do is lecture or demean him? I can’t tell if you are purposefully malicious or simply fools!”

“We’re working on it,” Rogers said defensively. “We’ve been trying to ease him into accepting our help slowly,”

“And how is that working out?” Strange snorted. “Do you plan on breaking through once he’s dead because from what I’ve seen, you all are working at a _glacial_ pace,”

“That’s easy for you to say, you have an all-access paid pass to his brain!” Barton growled, bristling. Romanov moved to intercept him, but he yanked out of her grip. “For the rest of us, we have to go by what he does and says and--newsflash--he’s an asshole. He picked a fight with the Hulk, who is his so-called ‘science-bro’ by the way, on his way here--”

Banner cleared his throat. “Actually, he was picking a fight with me, not the Hulk,” But he was mostly ignored. 

“--The only person who can stand to be around him these days is Thor!”

“Then I would suggest listening to what Thor has to say, figure out what he did right. You don’t need to look into someone’s brain to _know_ them,” He looked over to Banner and addressed him, “What exactly did you two fight about?”

“I was concerned about how his relationship with Thor was progressing,” he said, slightly bashful and less green.

“What happened directly before?” Strange asked after a moment of thought.

“Er-”

“Stark and Fury were arguing over their behavior while on the field,” Romanov answered for him in a disinterested tone. “The Director was concerned about emotional compromise, timing, and potential public backlash, Tony was trying to explain his point of view,”

“I see,” he said, walking a few steps as he fit this information with what he knew. “So, you’re saying Stark was dismissed by his superior, ignored by his team, and then one of his best friends starts to criticize not only his new relationship but also the behavior he was not allowed to defend? Oh, yes, Tony is just the worst,”

He cut off anyone else’s attempts to justify further with a sharp cutting motion of one hand through the air, while he massaged his temples with the other. “I think we all have a lot to think about. You have the rest of tonight and tomorrow morning to settle in. Tomorrow at 2, I would like to see everyone on their best behavior in the meeting room. Do not try me on this,”

With another swift motion he returned everyone to the real world, and with a dramatic swish of his cloak, he stormed his way out of the room without another glance.


	12. Two Geniuses Meet At A Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something to tide you over (since I worked on something that wasn't this or my Finals, naughty me): Tony and Stephen's night back in '94!
> 
> In case anyone was wondering until MCU comes out with an age, Strange is younger than Tony 23 to his 24 and his birthday is in November.

_December 11th, 1994, New York City_

Tony very nearly stumbled into the bar, whipping off his sunglasses to charm the very attractive female bartender. “Hi, darling, I’m gonna need everything you got...and then you can follow me to my hotel room,”

“That seems a bit much,” A silky voice murmured, and God, he could hear the smirk in it. Smarmy bastard was his calling card, dammit.

He let his fake socialite grin widen before turning around, accepting whatever the bartender put in his glass and bringing it to his lips to give him time to give that voice’s body a once-over. “If you knew me, you wouldn’t think so,” He stuck his hand out. “I don’t think we’ve met, Tony Stark,”

Stranger snorted but took his hand in a crushingly firm grip. “Doctor Stephen Strange. I’d say at your service, but I’m afraid my going rate would put a drain on even your resources,”

Oh, a challenge. He liked this guy much more than Hammer so far. His grin lost some of its falsity. “Strange, huh? You that neurosurgeon they call ‘steadiest hands in the West’?” 

“One and only. I hear you have a similar title,”

“Oh?” News to him. He took another sip of his remaining scotch.

“Yes, ‘steadiest hands in the South,’”

Bad timing. Scotch did not make it down his esophagus completely. He gave a delicate cough to cover it up, but given that annoying smirk on his counterpart’s face, wasn’t that smooth. Well, turnabout’s fair play. 

“That’s a new one,” He set down his empty tumbler, casually tapping his fingers on the bar to signal a refill and waiting to make sure his motion caught Strange’s attention. “But I’m more than happy to live up to my reputation if you’d like, Doctor,” He paired his drawl with his best bedroom eyes, flicking up and down the suit, the man was wearing. Classic, no frills, dark blue, but form-fitting and with a very expensive-looking paired watch to match.

The blush that bloomed was almost cute. Made him look unbearably young--God, there was something so appetizing about New Money, made him want to unravel the man and channel all that desperation to prove himself into something a little more fun. His skills and smarts had gotten him this far, but none of that ever prepares anyone for _Tony fucking Stark_ at first meeting.

Strange took a long swallow of his drink of choice, and his cheeks darkened when Tony kept his gaze hot on his mouth. “Ah,” he said, placing his drink down. “I am very flattered, Mister Stark--”

“Call me Tony,”

“Tony,” he corrected with an inclined nod. “As I’ve said, but unfortunately I don’t swing that way,”

Tony shook his head, smiling softer but no less false as he picked up his refilled glass. “Then perhaps just some platonic company? The conference I just came from was exceptionally boring, and I have something I want to pick your brain about anyway,”

“Crossing into the field of real doctors, then, Tony?”

“You know I have like, at least three more degrees than you, right?”

~*~*~

At some point, they made it into Tony’s hotel room. He was man enough to admit that he had gotten completely shit-faced and that Strange was probably worse off than he was without all his many years of experience. He was rambling by the window, with a just more than half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, paying more attention to Strange giggling on his bed than the view outside.

“I’m just saying, it could be revolutionary! I’m thinking of calling it something like ‘the Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing’ or--”

Strange cut him off with a guffaw that nearly landed him on the floor. God help him, but he was actually starting to feel fond of this idiot. He couldn’t keep his smile off his face, which hadn’t happened in a long time.

“You-you know,” he said, literally wiping away tears as he supported himself on the edge of the mattress only half-off the floor. “That just spells BARF,”

He shrugged, trying to smother his grin. “So I’m not good at naming stuff, sue me,” He offered the bottle to him, but the man still had some of his wits about him and waved him off. “I am legally ob-I’m supposed to tell you don’t actually sue me,”

“I wouldn’t,” Strange slurred, looking up at him with an unreadable expression. Tony took another sip to distract himself. “I never...I thought you’d be different,”

“Yeah?” he said, licking his lips. Everything started to feel dry in this room now. He was probably dehydrated.

Strange nodded, slowly slipping onto the floor. “You’re supposed to be a jerk. But you’re not, not really,”

Okay, this was officially too much. With a put-upon sigh, he dropped his bottle somewhere and started to help Strange to his feet. “Alright, I think we’ve both had enough,” he said, one hand on Strange’s chest and waist to help stabilize him. “Where are you staying for tonight?”

That unreadable look was back, and Tony was suddenly aware of how close they were. “Here?” he attempted.

Tony grin dipped into sad territory. “Nice try, Stefan, but you already said no,”

“I think...this once,” he said, voice low and quiet like he was confessing a secret. “I wouldn’t mind comparing hands,”

Tony snorted. “That has got to be the _worst _come on in all--”__

__He was cut off again, but this time with a kiss. A rather very good kiss, all things considered. He shivered when he felt lips pull away--when did his eyes close?--and someone was certainly interested and fuck it all Tony was just really bad at denying himself anything, especially the things he really _really_ wanted._ _

__“Okay, lover-boy,” he whispered, a confession back. “Just this once,”_ _


	13. Team Bonding, Take Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, you guys. At 50+ pages, this is officially the longest thing I've posted on here, and now you've all made it one of my most popular fics. So, have this early and enjoy the feels!

“So, Thor?”

“Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it,” Tony scowled, crossing his legs to match his arms. Strange wanted a quick debriefing session before the group meeting at 2, but he knew that grin wasn’t the grin that belonged to his semi-professional pseudo-therapist. That was a shit-eating grin that belonged to friends that like to make fun of him, and he was already on edge with whatever Strange had in his plans for their group kumbaya.

“It’s just...interesting. You seem to have a fondness for muscular, blonde--”

“Yeah, and I used to have a fondness for your face without my fist in it,” he snapped.

“Kinky, Stark,”

“Strange, _seriously_ ,” he groaned. And there, finally, Strange dropped his act.

“I’m concerned, Anthony,” he said seriously, pouring out a cup of tea--tea!--for them both. He accepted it anyway, the heathen. “I don’t doubt that Thor has been an ally to you in these times, but he shouldn’t be the only one amongst your team,”

“That’s not true,” he protested immediately. But at Strange’s raised eyebrow his mind went all static, so he took a sip from the mug he was given and blinked. “This is actually pretty good,”

Strange’s smile was wry and bittersweet. “Thank you; you could say it’s an old family recipe. I had to hunt down Wong and trade him for the secret,”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Ugh, mystical tea,” He didn’t stop drinking it though, using it to fill the silence.

“I don’t like the way the Avengers--”

“I know,” he said with a sigh, placing his mug down on the end table beside him. “But they’re good people,”

Strange’s eyes narrowed. “You are included in that definition, too, Tony,”

“I just got lucky with our first impression, Stephen,”

Strange placed down his mug as well, leaning in behind his office desk. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

“No. Maybe,” he shrugged, picking at his jeans seam. “Everybody else is, and generally, I’ve noticed that what concerns the normal folk is something I’m supposed to be concerned about, eccentric genius billionaire notwithstanding. Apparently, there are certain social conventions that even _I’m_ beholden to,”

“And Thor?”

He sent him a mild glare. “You shouldn’t have teased him like that,”

“If he has any hope of being attached to you romantically, he has to learn to deal with it,” Strange said, blithely. “You’ve had many lovers, and at heart, he is still a sheltered prince. I’m almost certain Asgard differs from our customs when it comes to romance,”

“Still. That’s not the point,” he huffed.

“What is the point, then?” Tony didn’t respond, fingers moving to pluck elsewhere. Strange sighed. “You should have come to see me sooner, Tony,”

“You could have come to me,” he murmured, aggravation heavy in his tone despite the volume. “177A Bleeker Street isn’t that far from 200 Park Avenue-bet with your flying cape you could even make it in 15 minutes, tops. You didn’t even _try_. No one did, except-” He didn’t need to finish.

“I’m sorry,” Tony was startled into looking up, and even more startled by the honest regret he saw. “You are absolutely right; I failed you when you were in need of me,”

Fuck, his eyes burned. He rubbed them with the heel of his palm, making sure to apply pressure and squeeze back in any potential leaks. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he sniffed. “We’re superheroes. We can’t drop everything to have a tea party for our mental health, even if it’s for a fellow hero,”

“I don’t think you get it,” Strange began, standing up in a smooth motion just to kneel in front of him. His hands went for Tony’s wrists and gently tugged them away from his face. “I failed _you_ when you needed _me_ , it doesn’t matter who you are or what you do, Tony. As your friend, I should have done better, and you need to hold me to that standard,”

“Stop,” he said, mostly on automatic, glad his mouth could move while his brain was still processing. “You’ll make me blush,” Strange chuckled, guided Tony’s hands to his lap, and pressed his lips to the middle of his forehead. Tony shivered, feeling the warmth collect there long after it should have from the brief contact.

“You need to pay better attention to the truth,” he whispered. “You let your demons control you,”

Tony closed his eyes and let himself fall apart just a little. Strange’s hands moved to hold his face, grounding him with warmth and familiarity, wordlessly covering any signs of wetness before they became noticeable. Absently, he knew he was trembling, even as he held onto Stephen the same way. “It’s so hard,” he croaked.

“I know,”

“My hands won’t stay steady anymore, Stephen,”

His answered laugh was empty of humor. “Maybe it’s time for a new specialty,”

He took a deep breath and relaxed enough to regain his composure without a struggle. As he blinked his vision clear, they dropped their hands from contact with each other. “Is it time to do another mind meld?”

Strange shook his head and stood up, lips quirked despite his portrayal of annoyance. Tony grinned. “C’mon, Doctor Spock, don’t you want another peek inside my beautiful mind?”

“Your references are all over the place, not to mention that it’d be best if we started to head to the meeting room, Captain Kirk,” he answered, donning his cloak all serious-like and pretending like Tony’s crowing didn’t amuse him.

~*~*~

The meeting room was set up like the typical AA/NA/whatever meeting that he never actually went to. Large open room, high-ceiling windows along the entire back wall flooding the room in natural light, above-average quality folding chairs spread out into a heavily spaced circle, and a cute little table decked out with snacks and drinks on top a black tablecloth. And, best of all, he gleefully noted the lack of tea in place of coffee.

“What,” he turned to tease Strange to his face. “I’m the only one special enough to torture with your mystical tea?”

“Yes,” he returned without a moment’s hesitation, catching his eye meaningfully. Tony let that sink in and felt himself relax. “Go take a seat before the others get here,”

He huffed, feigning irritation at being bossed about and sat down in a seat that had the best vantage point of exits, but more importantly, fewer paths of approach, when Thor burst in, followed by the Wonder Twins. He grinned shyly at Thor, self-conscious with the twins in the room already visibly agitated and twitchy. Thor approached him, pausing a moment to send Strange some kind of look that Tony couldn’t see, before leaning down to kiss him languidly and sweet. His heart fluttered at the gentle treatment, always a surprise, and he closed his eyes when Thor’s lips moved to the center of his forehead--almost in the same spot as Strange, was he leaking pheromones or something there?--and pressed light against his skin.

“Thank you for staying with me last night, Tony,” he said, and it would have been very cute if he didn’t know better.

“I’m gonna let it slide, Goldilocks,” he said back, enjoying the closeness even if he was in the middle of scolding Thor. “But you’ve _got_ to tone down the little green monster inside of you. I’m all for being a trophy wife, but you know Strange is just provoking you for funsies now,”

“I find,” Thor began, eyes going dark and dilating in a way that made Tony want to squirm. “That, when it comes to you, I cannot help indulging my baser urges,”

Oh, boy. “That’s, uh,” Tony coughed and tried to casually cross his legs. Thor smirked, and he felt warm all over. “Sounds real...fascinating,”

“Breathe, Tony,” Thor chuckled, placing one last kiss on his forehead. “I shan’t tease you further; I only wished to distract you,”

“What, why?” His question was answered when Thor took a seat on his left side, revealing that the rest of the company had arrived and was milling about just as awkwardly as he felt. Now he was feeling warm for an entirely different reason.

“Please, everyone, sit,” Strange directed, looking far too pleased. “You are more than welcome to snacks, but the sooner we sit, the sooner this agony can be done with,”

Everyone started moving to take their seats at that. Strange’s cloak claimed the free seat next to Tony, before anyone could even think of it which was a relief Tony didn’t know he was concerned about, and seeing that, the twins took the exact opposite seat in the circle. Steve and Bruce sat on either side of them, a tactical move or sympathetic one, he wasn’t sure, and Natasha and Clint settled in the leftovers.

“I would have thought, being the one in charge, you would be enjoying this,” Steve muttered as Strange walked by to take the seat his magical cape reserved for him, putting him directly in the center.

Strange flashed him a conceited smile. “You may have heard that Stark doesn’t play well with others,” At Steve’s nod, he continued, “Well, I’m much worse. The only reason I am here is as a favor to Tony and because SHIELD has promised me something I desire,”

Sitting down in a flashy movement, cloak falling over his shoulders, he grinned at everyone. “I trust that you all remember my warnings. I have so few rules I expect you to follow after all,” Tony frowned at everyone’s reluctant affirmations. “Good. Today’s theme is regret. Part of establishing trust, whether as a responsible human being in the world or as part of a team, sometimes means exposing the darkest parts of yourself and letting others see you be vulnerable, allowing them to care for you--or so they say. I only took three psychology courses in my medical training. Regardless, we’ll all go around and say _something_. I’ll begin,”

He cleared his throat and actually dropped the, mostly, pretense of cocky bastard. Tony blinked, he wasn’t expecting that. “I was a terrible doctor--I had a perfect record, don’t get me wrong, but I had no respect for my peers, and I turned away people who needed my skills because it was too risky to my record, too expensive for them to pay, too _boring_...” 

His hands tightened into fists but didn’t close all the way, shaking from tension. Tony reached out to cover the closest one and Strange exhaled, relaxing, accepting his touch, but the quiver stayed. “I was so determined to make a name for myself, that I forgot to be a decent human being. And now my hands can never make up for it, and I have no one to blame but myself,”

No one said anything after that, silence heavy and somber when Stephen tore his mask down. Tony knew this already--their sessions weren’t completely one-sided--and it still settled like a weight on his chest. Clearing his throat, he let go of his hand and snapped with a soft smirk like it was a poetry circle. It earned him a grateful huff. “Yes, thank you, Tony, for your contribution to the atmosphere. Who would like to go next?”

Predictably, no one said anything still. There was a lot of shifting noises, Natasha stiffly crossed, Bruce looking as far away as possible from anyone, Steve with a vacant almost sad expression lost in thought, and the twins doing their best to wrap up in each other.

“Well--”

“Not you, Tony,” Strange interrupted with a shake of his head. “I’m teaching a lesson to the rest of the group, first,”

“Whatever,” he said, secretly relieved. He’d do this because Stephen asked, and to prove Fury wrong, but that didn’t mean he was completely happy with his issues being put on the spot.

“I’m a weapon,” Natasha spoke suddenly, like the rest of her was catching up to the fact that the words were pulled out of her guts and thrown into the air. “I was trained since before I could remember in the Red Room, ballet until our feet bled, combat until our bodies collapsed or our sparring partner died. On, uh, graduation, they sterilized every one of us--our bodies were nothing more than tools to kill our targets, and we were required to use that tool in whatever manner would best achieve that. It’s no coincidence that the Black Widows were primarily used against men.

“I have a lot of red in my ledger,” she continued, with a more approving look at Strange. “I don’t know if I can ever cancel it all out.”

She looked at Tony now, letting him see her, letting him in. “Tony, I’m sorry. I never corrected you, never told you my assessment was all part of a ploy--I knew it then just as much as I know now that the person I studied and wrote about is not who _you_ are. I was wrong, and I am still in the wrong, I never meant to hurt you with the things I said,”

“It’s not all lies,” At glares from Thor, Strange and Natasha, he hastily added, “But I accept your apology anyway,”

“Give me another chance to clear out some of the red between us,” she finished, quietly, eyes unwavering. “Let me do right by you,”

“That’s--”

“Thank you for your contribution, who’s next?” Strange interrupted once more and Tony sighed, sensing what was happening.

“I didn’t have a great childhood,” Bruce said, surprising nearly everyone by the almost unanimous turning of heads. He noticed that too, wry smile as he continued, “My anger issues didn’t just appear when the Big Guy did. The, uh, attempt at a super serum-it heightens what’s already there.

“I’m not good dealing with people, crowds, anymore. My senses,” His hands went up and simulated an explosion. “A bit not good. Sometimes, I think that that’s the real reason you wanted to be friends, Tony. From day one, you _saw_ me, saw what I needed and I wish--”

“Brucie,” Tony said, softly, like a caress. “It’s okay,”

Bruce flinched. “It’s not. I get it now. You’re so used to giving that you’ve never learned how to ask for something in return, properly, like a normal human would. I’m sorry I couldn’t understand you,”

Tony swallowed the feelings trying to choke him, didn’t even try to say more. Strange smiled, at both of them, “Thank you, Doctor. Anyone else?”

Steve sighed and shifted in his seat forward. But he took a minute, staring at the hands in his lap before he picked his head up. “I watched my best friend fall, and I was powerless...Serum gave me a new body, and I couldn’t do a damned thing but watch. We were...well, we could have been. There was somethin’.

“I loved Peggy, I did, but after Bucky-it’s like my body already knew I was gonna go into the Arctic. And then, waking up in the future, everything I knew was gone, and I was powerless again. SHIELD made me see people, depression they called it, shell-shock; I needed purpose, I needed something…” He flexed his fingers and sighed. 

“Looking at you, Tony, it’s like having the past back within my grip and every time I reach out to grab it, it disappears. I _know_ you’re not your father,” he continued, with an exasperated look as soon as Tony opened his mouth to argue. “You’re nothing like Howard, and that should make it easier, but it’s not. I don’t know if that’s on me or you or both of us, but...having this team, being a part of the Avengers, it keeps me grounded. I’ve been too focused on doing my own healing that I’ve neglected yours, I’ve neglected you, and for that I’m sorry,”

Tony nodded dumbly, not sure what to say to that, beginning to feel overwhelmed by...everything. Before he could be prompted, Thor spoke in a more subdued than usual tone, the kind he usually reserved for private. “I think it obvious my greatest regret is that I allowed pride to blind me to my own faults, and to the hurt of others, thinking myself superior,”

He turned towards Tony and held his hands in a loose grip, thumb swiping over his skin, and Tony felt some of his restlessness drift away. “Tony, you never did ask, but when I went to Asgard, none could give me the answers I sought. Except for Loki. It took most of the second day to convince him that I truly wished to hear his story and only the last hours of the third for him to speak the truth. I learned many things that day, most, perhaps, that I cannot apply here, but I am comforted and honored by the trust you both gave me that day. I only ask that you allow the same opportunity to the others. And whatever be your final judgement, auð, I shall support thee,”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, swallowing, swiping his thumb back.

“Barton?” Strange asked, directing the attention to the only Avenger who hadn’t spoken yet. Tony took a few breaths in relief.

“Look, I’ve been here before,” he said only after a jab to the ribs from Natasha. “I’ve done the whole therapy thing and, when you’re in the line of business that Nat and I are in, you don’t have the affordability of regret. You just do, and move on, because otherwise, you’d drown.

“I’m not going to apologize to you, Tony,” he added, eyes like steel but not without sympathy. “You’re struggling with a lot, and you’re still only a civilian, yeah, but that doesn’t excuse you from being an asshole. And, it don’t excuse me neither. So, I guess I’m saying, next time I’ll do better-but you gotta too,”

Tony smiled, then shrugged to cover up how weak it was. “Fair enough,”

“Would either of you like to add something?” Strange moved on, looking directly across from him at the twins, who had stayed quiet and unassuming until now.

“I have nothing to--” Pietro started to snarl, cut off by his sister’s jab to his side.

“What my brother means to say is that we decline,” she said sharply, looking only at his sour expression until she was sure he wouldn’t interrupt again. “There is a different lesson for us to learn, here,”

Strange nodded, looking satisfied and pleased at her words. “Well, then, Tony, the floor is yours, if you’ll have it,”

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say. He wasn’t dumb, he caught on to what this very thinly disguised moment in the name of group therapy was, and Fury had already kind of implied that this was the point of their month off, but it was more moving than he expected. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth like it was actually made of silver. His heart was beating fast, and the air was warm on his skin, but, oddly enough, he didn’t feel like he was going to spiral into an anxiety attack.

“Actually, no,” he said, feeling the taste of those words swirling in his mouth. “I think I’m okay,”

Thor’s squeeze of his hands and Strange’s delighted smile made him feel confident that he made the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor's term of endearment (auð) is a pun; literally, it is "treasure, wealth, riches, "." but he's basically calling Tony "he who is treasured, made up of treasures or from riches." Or, you know, "sugar daddy" if you're so inclined.
> 
> I wouldn't expect an update for this until the end of next week. But, hey, finally some real growth!


End file.
